Footnotes and Annotations
by MissGoalie75
Summary: Glimpses of what’s seen and not seen during their times together and apart. Literati.
1. You Got Growing Up To Do

A/N: So I decided to start a collection of oneshots, because that seems to be all I'm capable of with this couple. Each one will precede with a lyric that inspired me. I hope you enjoy them!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Sometimes you run and hide_

_Your foolish pride's_

_What keeps me from giving you more_

_- Joshua Radin_

You Got Growing Up To Do

Rory cries, still sitting on the box filled with neatly stacked books, feeling a mixture of disbelief and unbearable sadness. His words still echo in her head:

_And I'm ready. I'm ready for this. You can count on me now. I know you couldn't count on me before, but you can now, you can_.

She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she couldn't, she _can't_. There's no way he's ready, or _she's_ ready for that matter. And there's _no_ way she can count on him, not until he can say those words without his voice cracking in desperation. He's still running away from his problems (or maybe he's trying to fix them?) and she can't help but think that if she were to go away with him, one day she'll wake up and she'll be alone in some shabby motel, clutching paper-thin sheets.

She wipes her eyes and forces herself to breathe evenly. This is for the best. She can't just drop everything for _him_ – it's ludicrous! But what's even crazier is that she actually _considered_ running away from it all: Yale, her mother, her grandparents, Stars Hollow…everything. Just so she can look into his dark eyes, talk about books until the sun comes up, and…

Stop. That's not going to happen. He clearly can't handle that kind of relationship for more than a few months. He needs to stop being angry at the world and grow up. Yes, he needs to grow up. This thought allows her to stand up and continue her packing.

But a small voice in the back of her mind whispers, "You have to grow up too."

* * *

A/N: I hate the dorm scene, and this is the closest I'm ever going to get to it.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	2. We Live Such Fragile Lives

A/N: This is 200 words exactly! I love it when that happens :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_The way she feels inside_

_Those thoughts I can't deny_

_These sleeping dogs won't lie_

_And all I've tried to hide_

_It's eating me apart._

_Trace this life out._

_The All-American Rejects_

We Live Such Fragile Lives

As soon as he walks away from her bus, that smile is wiped from his face and replaced with a scowl; he's _really_ pissed off.

He could've gone on fine. Sure, he felt (still feels, actually) guilty about the accident and all that he's done to Rory…but she would've been a person of the past. A what if.

But now it's all gone to hell. Who'd of thought she would actually _skip school_ and _skip town_ just to go and see him? Even if it's just for closure? Despite after everything that's happened, she couldn't just let him go.

Now he's hooked, there's _no_ way he'll be able to forget about her now. She's going to haunt his daydreams, and she's going to whisper in his mind whenever he reads a book they've talked about…

Amazing how this girl can _do_ this to him. And he actually _likes_ it. He likes her. A lot.

So what now?

He turns the corner down his block where his shitty apartment is. He can't stay here anymore; as much as he loves this city, he has to be with Rory. So…he has to come back to Stars Hollow. He _wants_ to come back.

* * *

A/N: Okay guys, it's great that you decided to read this; I'm really happy! But you really should review; it encourages the writer.

Thanks to JeremyShane and Midnight-Gypsy101 for reviewing – you guys are awesome! And to those who put this on their story alert...things. You guys are pretty cool too :)

Please, please review, good readers!!

MissGoalie


	3. Wayward Son

A/N: I never really thought of writing anything other than Rory's or Jess' POV, but this just came out one afternoon and I figured it deserved to be posted for the hell of it. Enjoy!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_- Kansas_

Wayward Son

Jimmy stares at his son, and he can't help but feel like he's looking back twenty years into his old reflection. Those eyes, he looks so confused. But there's some sort of purpose that Jimmy was severely lacking when he first started traveling.

Jimmy didn't know what the hell he was doing. But Jess does, or at least he has an instinct to go with. He won't be traveling for nearly as long as Jimmy did, but it's going to be hard. Maybe it'll be even worse, because Jess has had a taste of goodness that he left behind.

Whoever the girl was that Jess left, she definitely did more damage to him than Liz did to Jimmy. It's obvious in the way Jess looks out onto the road and grips his bag. Jimmy wants to say something to him, but he doesn't know (he never knew, even when Jess was a few months old). But the kid turned out okay without a dad, right? He would like to think so, but then most nights when he could hear Jess tossing and turning, he doubts himself.

Jimmy will always feel that twinge of guilt for abandoning Jess, but he knew it was ultimately for the best. At least for himself. Perhaps that's horribly selfish, but he knows that he would've fucked up the kid more by being there for him.

"Bye Jess," Jimmy hears Lily say in a quiet voice. He watches her hug Jess tightly while he squirms in her tight embrace. But Jess eventually stops moving and places a gentle hand on Lily's head.

"Bye."

Lily finally lets Jess go and she goes to stand by Sasha. She's trying to hold back tears.

Sasha gives Jess a caring smile. "Take care, okay?"

Jess nods.

"And call. Obviously not everyday…but try and update us once in a while? Let us know you're alive."

Jess nods again. "We'll see."

But Jimmy knows that he will, probably more frequently than Jess is thinking of right now.

Now Jess glances towards Jimmy, and Jimmy still can't think of a damn thing to say. So he goes up and squeezes Jess' shoulder once, hoping that he can read him just a little. _I've done this before, it's okay, you'll make it, you'll find whatever it is you really need._

_Good luck._

Jimmy thinks Jess got it because he nods curtly before walking away without looking back.

When Jimmy can't see Jess anymore, he finally hears Lily crying into Sasha's side. He turns to look at Lily with a smile. "You'll see him again sometime."

She sniffles and looks up at him, and for once he really feels like her father; sometimes Lily is just so smart that he forgets she's a ten-year-old girl at heart.

Sasha looks to Jimmy and asks with her eyes if Jess will be okay. That he looks tougher than he really is, he can break. She's concerned.

_He won't, he won't allow himself to_, Jimmy thinks to himself as he gently leads Sasha and Lily back into the house. "I'll order Chinese?"

* * *

A/N: I hope this was somewhat interesting. It couldn't have been too painful since it's pretty short. Let me know your thoughts by reviewing!

Thank you to my reviewers! Keep on doing what you're doing ;)

MissGoalie


	4. Ramblin' Man

A/N: When I heard this song on the radio the other day, my first thought was: JESS MARIANO.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Lord, I was born a ramblin' man_

_Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can._

_And when it's time for leavin'_

_I hope you'll understand_

_That I was born a ramblin' man_

_- The Allman Brothers Band_

Ramblin' Man

Jess takes a seat on the bar stool of the diner, making sure the strap of his duffel bag is over his kneecap. Sighing a bit, he considers ordering a slice of pie like Kerouac when a middle-aged waitress with bleached hair and too much makeup comes up to him.

"What can I getcha, hun?" she asks with a country twang, snapping her gum as she poises her pen on her notepad.

He winces. He wanted to avoid going south so he wouldn't have to deal with these accents, but apparently a southern family owns this diner. "Slice of cherry pie and a coffee," he answers.

She lowers her pen and pad and looks at him thoroughly. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, she searches him (he's used to this). And when she notices the duffel bag, she grins. "Are ya travelin'?"

"A bit," he says shortly. He does _not_ want to make small talk with this woman.

She gasps. "Oh! Terry! _Terry_! Get your ass out here! We got ourselves a _ramblin' man_!"

Jess narrows his eyes. _What_?

A rather round man with dirty blonde facial hair exits the kitchen and goes to stand next to the waitress. He laughs when he takes in Jess. "Well hot damn! We do! Shirley, go turn the song on!"

"That's _really_ not necessary," Jess mutters, looking down and avoiding the gazes of everyone in the diner.

"Don't be embarrassed, son! Your order's on the house! I've always wanted to travel the country and whatnot. Too bad I knocked up my wife!" Terry chuckles goodheartedly. Jess is seriously considering walking out and finding somewhere else to get food; the dumpster he saw two blocks away is _really_ tempting right now.

The first few chords of "Ramblin' Man" by The Allman Brothers Band fills the diner and a few customers catcall in pleasure. Jess can only internally whither away in misery.

Honestly, Jess isn't a huge fan of The Allman Brothers Band. But if anything, he prefers the original group; you know, when the genius Duane Allman, the driving force of theband, was _alive_.

Maybe it's just part of his genetic code to automatically hate the mainstream, but he doesn't like their biggest hit, "Ramblin' Man." It doesn't have a point. So a jerk travels around, blaming it on being born on a moving bus? Bullshit.

But maybe that's part of his genetic code too. He thinks of Jimmy and all the places he's been in his life before settling in Venice Beach. Jimmy is, or at least was, a true _ramblin' man_.

And Jess seems to be following in Jimmy's footsteps perfectly. Abandoning a girl, knowing he couldn't be enough, and trying to make up for it…

But Jess is _not_ a _ramblin' man_. He would've been satisfied if he remained in New York City and not gone to Stars Hollow in the first place. Yeah, maybe at eighteen he would've traveled anyway, just to flex his power of being a legal adult and not having to be under Liz anymore. But that's different. He honestly wouldn't mind staying in one place for good in the future.

And then Jess realizes that he is the _ramblin' man_ of Stars Hollow. He can never stay in that damn town for too long, always having to leave for some reason. The car accident with Rory…his inability to fucking _graduate_…

And he knows that he'll be drawn back there again. That's just how it is.

_Lord, I was born a ramblin' man_

_Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can._

_And when it's time for leavin'_

_I hope you'll understand_

_That I was born a ramblin' man_

As far as Jess is concerned, nobody is _born_ to be anything. He has to believe that.

* * *

A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! It takes two seconds!

Thanks for those who have reviewed and even favored my story - you guys are great!

MissGoalie


	5. I Have The Hardest Time Resisting You

A/N: I've been listening to old favorites lately.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_If you feel the same way,_

_Then how can we be friends?_

_He's right you know, we can't go on like this_

_Cartel_

I Have The Hardest Time Resisting You

His chest is quaking long after Dean angrily stalks off the dance floor. Is that all true? Rory _does_ like him? Well of course she does, Jess reminds himself in a stupor. Obviously.

But this is so official. There's no going back from this. They have to finish what they've started. And how did this all start? Did it start with that kiss under the trees? Or did it start way before that, when he stole her copy of _Howl_?

Maybe it was way before _that_. Like this was meant to happen since the beginning. The beginning of what, though?

He doesn't want to think this anymore, because all he can think of is the beginning of _everything_. It's as if all of this, he, she, _they_ are meant to be, and that's too much for Jess to handle.

The moonlight is hitting her cheekbones just right, and Jess swears there are stars sparkling around her with the reflecting water, as if she's starring in a film.

When she confirms everything, he's afraid this is one of his early morning dreams, and any second he's going to wake up. He's so in shock that he forgets to speak, and she takes it the wrong way.

He exhales shakily. This is it. "He was right…about…all of it."

All of it.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed, and if you didn't, I'm sorry. Stick around for the next one?

Please review! It makes me a happy person!

MissGoalie


	6. You’re Weighing On My Shoulders

A/N: I love ranting. For myself and for other people.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I just don't want to waste another day_

_I'm trying to make things right_

_But you shove it in my face_

_And all those things you've done to me I can't erase_

_And I can't keep this inside_

_It's time to say goodbye_

_- Simple Plan_

You're Weighing On My Shoulders

He's tired of thinking of her. He's tired of wondering what she's doing. What book she's reading. Whether she _finally_ threw away those jeans with the ridiculous holes at the knees. If she thinks about him at all.

He wants it all to _stop_.

She's controlling his mind from hundreds of miles away, and it's just not _fair_. How is she able to do this to him? Does he simply _allow_ it to happen? He tries so hard not to think of her, but it becomes impossible when he goes into a bookstore and sees one of her favorite novels. Or when he smells coffee – which he officially removed from his diet.

What the fuck. How is that okay? He used to _like_ coffee. Quite more than the normal individual, actually, but then Rory-_fucking_-Gilmore comes along and she's a caffeine addict, with that bitter, delightful smell all over her clothes, sometimes on her tongue.

She really is a despicable person, having this effect on people. Now he can see how Dean was so bent out of shape about losing Rory.

_But you didn't lose Rory_, he reminds himself. _You pushed her away._

And that makes it so much worse.

Well fuck it all. Fuck _her_. At first he thought he ultimately didn't deserve her, but now he knows he doesn't deserve _this _anymore. He's done trying to be better for her. He wants to be better for _himself_, which is why he takes out that worn copy of _The Fountainhead_ and sets it on fire in a trashcan, because he'll never be able to get through that damn book, and he's done trying.

He's done enough for her. She may not realize it, or even know it at all, but he knows he has. And that's sufficient for him to walk away with empty pockets and a lighter heart. This is it; he refuses to spend another day like this.

_You could do more._

Rory's right, he thinks as he walks back to his apartment. He _can_ do more; he can do _better_. Better than her.

* * *

A/N: This is for all those Rory haters, because sometimes she can be such an immature bitch.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	7. Stupid To Trust

A/N: Everyone loves this song. It's so awesome. I love Cobra Starship!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I know your type_

_You're daddy's little girl_

_Just take a bite_

_Let me shake up your world_

_- Cobra Starship_

Stupid To Trust

She definitely doesn't get out much, if it all, he notes when she whips around in her chair to greet him with a big, friendly smile.

She's definitely pretty; he'll give her that. But she doesn't flaunt anything. Her clothes are loose on her lithe frame and she wears no makeup. She's fresh. Innocent.

Almost like a little girl.

He's close to dismissing her as another crazy townie until he sees the stacks of books in her shelves, and he automatically knows her potential. She's bigger than this town.

Her collection almost mirrors his, and he kind of falls in love with her on the spot.

She just needs a little pushing. So he goes to her window, hoping that they can bail and he can show her what the _real_ world is like, beyond the pages and ink of novels. But she's hesitant, spewing logical answers as to why they can't do that.

She smiles at him once more before she goes off to the kitchen, obviously hoping she convinced him to join the others, to join her. But he stares after her, ideas and plans forming in his mind.

He's going to affect her. Her mom already doesn't trust him, but this girl, Rory, is just a little too naïve, and that alone with allow him to slither his way into her mind, get her to take interest.

Maybe this town won't be _so_ uninteresting.

* * *

A/N: You guys - REVIEW! It's really not that difficult - I know you guys have been reading, and that's fantastic! I appreciate the interest! So please, please review!

Thanks to those who do take the time to review - you guys are larger than life, as the Backstreet Boys sang in the 90's.

MissGoalie


	8. And Do You Ever Take A Chance, My Love?

A/N: Although this song is kind of a blatant rip off of a Blink-182 (way to take from your old work, Tom DeLonge), I still kind of like it. Especially since it reminds me of Gilmore Girls.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Just sit back and hold on, but hold on tight_

_Prepare for the best and fastest ride_

_And reach out your hand, and I'll make you mine_

_Angels & Airwaves_

And Do You Ever Take A Chance, My Love?

Jess gets into the driver's seat of the car, and after a few seconds, he looks over to the passenger's side to find Rory standing outside the car, apprehension etched on her pretty face. In the diner Rory seemed willing to go along with ice cream, but now that she's actually outside, she's visibly having doubts.

He reaches to the door and opens it for her. "Well?"

She squirms and looks away from him. "Maybe we shouldn't. After all Luke and my mom told us to stay in the diner and –"

She stops talking when Jess holds out his hand to her. He doesn't say another word; his eyes say everything, making her heart dance and twist and do things she never thought possible.

_Take a chance._ But on him? Could she do that? She can hear her mom and Dean and the entire town screaming their dissents. But then there's Jess' calming silence, his hand steady.

When she grabs his hand, she knows everything changes.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it guys - keep it up!

You know, if you guys have any songs that remind you of Literati, you're more than welcome to suggest them to me. Perhaps I'll be inspired! And I'll dedicate the oneshot to you, too :) Now doesn't that inspire you to review? Please do so!

MissGoalie


	9. But Yes, I’m Still Running

A/N: I was downloading U2 on my iPod the other day because I noticed I barely had any. And I heard this song, which is a great song, and I decided Jess Mariano could fit somehow.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I have run, I have crawled,_

_I have scaled these city walls_

_Only to be with you_

_But I still haven't found_

_What I'm looking for_

_But I still haven't found_

_What I'm looking for_

_- U2_

But Yes, I'm Still Running

He has to leave New York, there's no other option. Rent is getting to be too goddamn expensive, and these mindless jobs just aren't cutting it anymore. He needs more, and apparently New York City isn't going to give it to him.

But where the _fuck_ is he going to go?

He goes back to his shitty apartment, and of course no one is there except for the nameless guy (Jess thinks his name is Creed, but he may have misheard) who's underneath pounds of blankets. Jess wonders what he does for a living. He's pretty sure it's related to drugs since he only goes out at the dead of night, and he comes back with a ton of cash. But whatever, it's none of his business.

Jess starts gathering his belongings, stuffing everything into that one duffel bag. With his last paycheck in his back pocket, he has enough money for a bus outside of New York to another city on the east coast. But where can he _go_?

He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, inhaling deeply. He rarely gets to indulge in cigarettes anymore, so he doesn't smoke as much as he used to. But he hopes it'll help him think.

"Ugh, put that shit out," Jess hears, nearly making him jump.

Right. Nameless Kid. Jess doesn't think he's ever heard him talk.

Jess ignores him and continues smoking.

"Seriously. It smells like shit."

Jess looks over at him, and he's surprised to see a young face peaking out from all the blankets. He has to be as young as Jess, maybe even younger. But it could be the dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes that make guessing his age difficult.

"I'll be gone in a few minutes," Jess says before taking another drag.

"You're leaving?"

He blows out smoke. "Yeah. Rent is too expensive."

The Kid nods. "Pity. You were my favorite roommate."

Jess looks at him funny.

"You minded your own business. I don't think you even know my name."

"…I think it's Creed or something."

The Kid laughs. "It's Dean."

This time Jess lets out a laugh of his own. "Dean." He brings the cigarette to his lips. Dean the Jealous Green Giant…

"Have you ever been to Philly?" Dean inquires.

Jess shakes his out as he breathes out more smoke.

"Well if you happen to stop by there…it's just a cool city. Grew up there. I would totally move my enterprise there just so I could live there, but I figured NYC always has a good rep, so what I do won't really tarnish it. It would tarnish Philly since it has such a bad name. But everyone doesn't get that it's actually great. Or at least has the potential to be great."

Jess finishes his cigarette and he squishes it on the rug where he had been sleeping for the past few months. It's almost like leaving his mark.

"See ya," Jess says before walking out of the room. He knows he'll never see _Dean_ again, but whatever. You never know.

He walks down the streets of Manhattan, feeling a little sad. He hoped that maybe this city could finally give him something back, but after seven months of working, searching, walking, _everything_, he realized that all these constant reminders of who he was (and still is) are driving him insane. There's his mom holding five-year-old Jess' hand while walking to the grocery store. There's thirteen-year-old Jess running like hell after pinching his first pack of cigarettes.

There's Rory at that hotdog stand. There's Rory in that music store…

That's it. He's done with this dirty, fucked up, bright, alive city. He needs something new.

And he knows exactly where he's going to go.

* * *

A/N: You guys are amazing! Thank you for your suggestions – the expansion of my music library was much desired. And I was inspired to write about things I never really thought about writing, which is the most important thing, right?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	10. You Could Hide Beside Me

A/N: I heard this song on an episode of _October Road_, and I was like: Hey, I'm inspired to write something! And this is what came out of that.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_And even though the moment passed me by, I still can't turn away_

_I saw the dreams you never thought you'd lose, tossed along the way_

_- The Goo Goo Dolls_

You Could Hide Beside Me

The entire journey from Philly to Hartford, he's been wondering what it would be like to finally see Rory. What it would be like to show her his work, what he's become. How she would react.

How _he _would react, whether or not he'll fall in love with her all over again.

But when he finally sees her, he doesn't like what he sees. He doesn't like this Rory. At all. She's disturbing him with her expensive haircut and her well-tailored clothes. She's still pretty, oh so pretty, but it's all so generic now. Where's that inner light that used to permeate from her soul and out of her eyes? That took his surly seventeen-year-old self, who thought he'd seen it all, by surprise?

She disappeared, similarly to the seventeen-year-old boy who smoked cigarettes on deserted bridges.

Holding onto his book, she's holding the culmination of his journey from that bus ride to California to sitting in this extravagant room, three years later. Her grip is so delicate, as if it's going to disintegrate into ashes; she never quite knew that she was she's holding his heart until this very moment.

Three years. Is this what three years does to people? Losing heart and gaining perspectives?

He doesn't understand how she could've lost herself. What about her dreams? News corresponding? Journalism? Traveling the world?

Having cars driving straight at you, drivers screaming in a foreign language?

So many plans, goals, dreams and she's throwing them away. He wants to know why, but she desperately wants to avoid the issue, trying to make herself seem like she hasn't changed, not really, but she can't fool him. She could never fool him while he always played her for a fool.

Is this what he looked like when he lived in Stars Hollow? Potential going to waste?

This reversal is revealing, unsettling. He can't allow her to do this, not anymore. If there's one thing he could ever do for her in thanks for what she did to him, this is it.

Helping each other stay on the tracks.

So he offers to talk again, _preferably above a whisper_, and he's determined to get her to stop wasting her life; she's better than this, better than his eighteen-year-old self who didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

And then he'll leave again, until next time, whenever that is.

* * *

A/N: Keep the reviews coming! And song suggestions are always welcome :)

I hope everyone has a lovely Thanksgiving weekend!

MissGoalie


	11. Scars Are Souvenirs You Never Lose

A/N: Kind of related to the previous one, but really just because the lyrics are from the same song.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I think about you all the time_

_But I don't need the same_

_- The Goo Goo Dolls_

Scars Are Souvenirs You Never Lose

He wonders what that kiss meant as she smiles at him awkwardly, thanking him for the permission to use him in revenge. Since when does Rory Gilmore plot for revenge? Maybe he didn't completely bring her back to normal after all, and this causes him to look away from the door, long after she's walked out.

But was that kiss really just to get back at this jerk? He knows all about kissing others to get back at people (_Come Back Shane!_) and he can tell the difference. At first, maybe, _maybe_ it was about revenge. But as soon as it was, it wasn't. She _wanted_ to kiss him, maybe as much as he wanted to kiss her.

_God_. What the hell is _wrong_ with them? They're completely capable people; they're both intelligent, well read…you'd think they could get this right. They've both read and seen every portrayal of love.

But all they're proficient at is bad timing, messed up encounters, and smoldering passion.

He's always going to love her – he came to terms with this a while ago. There's a part of him still that wants her everyday. But his desire has become nothing more than constant white noise in his life and he's gotten used to it. He remembers that at nineteen his love for her was like nails scratching across a chalkboard, he couldn't _stand_ it: this want…this_ need_ for someone.

He sighs. He's a different person; he's satisfied with his life now and has accepted all the shit he had to go through to get here.

And with that thought, he heads out the door to meet up with Chris and Matt, because that ill-timed kiss was just another encounter of missed opportunity in the story in their story.

But he's okay with that, because there's always another encounter to look forward to. And next time, it could really mean something.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys – I know these chapters are very short, but that doesn't mean you can skip out on leaving reviews! I work just as hard on these short ones as I do on my 20+ page oneshots.

Thanks to those who consistently review – you guys are too amazing for words!

MissGoalie


	12. Wearing The Smile That I’ll Bring You

A/N: I love this song. And it immediately reminded me of Jess at the end of it, which makes it even better.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_And do you like making out_

_And long drives and brown eyes_

_And guys that just_

_Don't quite fit in?_

_- Dashboard Confessional_

Wearing The Smile That I'll Bring You

Jess wants to know _everything_ about her. He wants (needs) to know whether or not he actually has any chance of anything with her.

And he kind of wants her to get to know him, too. Maybe beyond the penchant for mischief and the passion for the written word. He wants her to know that he's nothing like _perfect _Dean. Jess has a spine, and you know what, he would like to do more with her than handholding on the street, occasionally sharing a peck or two. It's not being perverted, it's being a normal teenager, and he _knows_ deep inside she's craving more.

And he won't be content staying in Stars Hollow all the time; he'll want to go out, even if they never actually reach a destination. The freedom of leaving the constricting borders of this small town is satisfying enough.

Most of all, he wants to open her eyes to the obvious: she doesn't completely fit into Stars Hollow. Sure, everyone clearly loves her; she's the town princess. But she has bigger dreams and ambitions than all these people, and they'll only hold her back.

He's not quite sure if this is completely true, or if he's pulling this out of his ass just so he doesn't have to be alone in his inability to fit in.

Either way, he gathers all the money he's made working at the diner (it isn't much), and he goes out to join the crazy townies in the basket giveaway. He's got a basket to win.

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone had a pleasant Thanksgiving :)

Please review!!

MissGoalie


	13. You

A/N: This one is a little different from my other ones, but it still kind of works. I was just really inspired by this song.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_No amount of coffee, no amount of crying_

_No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine_

_No, no, no, no, no nothing else will do_

_I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you_

_- The Weepies_

You

**Coffee.**

When Jess leaves, Rory busies herself with end of the year schoolwork. She stays up late, caffeine constantly running through her bloodstream, because she knows if she were to sleep, she would never want to get out of bed. If she thinks too much about him being gone, she'll become immobilized.

**Crying.**

When Lorelai and Rory visit Milan, she's reminded of that damn Hemingway, and how he met the love of his life in a hospital during World War I. All her Hemingway books are in the back of her closet, because if she looks at them, all she sees is Jess. One night she sneaks out of the hostel because this time she can't control her sobs.

**Whiskey.**

After he admits his love for her, he drives to New York and gets plastered. Why, _why_ did he have to go and fall for Rory Gilmore? He takes another shot (he's lost count) and she's still burned into his mind, clear as always. Alcohol will never make her or memories of her fuzzy.

**Wine.**

He kisses a faceless no one and he can't help but feel that he's just biding his time until he can kiss Rory again. All these rebounds don't seem to be working because he always ends up back where he started: lost and broken.

**You.**

It's been almost three years since they last kissed, and when their lips meet again in Truncheon, it's like coming home. He comes to terms with the simple fact that nothing else, and no one else will ever quite measure up to her. And she realizes that he is much more than a high school ex-boyfriend; he transcends conventionalities.

They both discover that everything is inadequate compared to this.

* * *

A/N: So...like it? Or did it make you want to throw your computer out the window? I won't know unless you REVIEW!

Remember, I'm open to music suggestions! :) I take all your recommendations and compile them so they're not ignored, I swear!

MissGoalie


	14. And All At Once I Realize…

A/N: I love, love their music; so lovely.

This is for you, **King Sirahk**, since I know you're a fan as well.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_With every word you say, make me believe_

_That I won't feel your tires on the street_

_As I'm finding the words…you're getting away_

_I come undone, oh yes, I do_

_- Jack's Mannequin_

And All At Once I Realize…

"I love you."

Rory has never heard purer words in her life. Strangely enough, they pour naturally from his lips, even though one cold night months ago he quietly admitted to her that he hadn't said those words since he was eight.

I love you.

But while these words are beautiful, they're months too late.

Are they really?

Everything shuts down and she can't seem to function properly. The words trigger some internal defense mechanism, making her incapable of fully absorbing his words.

Incapable of reacting.

She needs to do _something_.

_Anything_.

For what?

To get him to stay?

Yes.

But there he goes, running away. Again.

And she does nothing. Again.

It vaguely feels as if his car is running over her heart, but she can't help but feel as if she did this to herself. This could've been better. She could've _done_ something instead of just standing here, looking blankly at him.

_And why is she still standing here_?

She blinks, and everything suddenly works: her nerves, limbs, brain.

Tears fall down her face, because her heart connects with everything and she fully realizes what had just happened.

(She can feel her coursing blood from running away from him.)

(She can still remember his sad eyes.)

(_I love you._)

No matter how many times she vocally denied having any lingering feelings for him, she was always lying. She loved him. _Still_ loves him. And he loves her too, after everything.

She wipes her tears away and slowly walks back to her house. She hopes that she'll be in control of herself by the time her mom gets home because Lorelai will never understand.

And Rory needs to get a grip and get over this anyway; two people loving each other can never just be enough.

One last tear rolls down her cheek, and it's a requiem for the naïve views she once had about love.

_I love you too._

_

* * *

A/N: While I may dislike Rory with a passion, I can kind of_ understand what she may have been feeling. But this was hard - it was a lot easier for me to do Jess' POV on this scene (check out my other fic To Be Expected - I wrote 30 pages about his entire time in Stars Hollow) than Rory's, which is why she only gets about a page.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	15. Now It’s Your Turn, Take A Shot

A/N: I saw them live a few weeks ago for a friend's birthday, and I was reminded of their first album and how much I loved it.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_When I was younger I used to be wild_

_Wild like an elephant's child_

_No one could hold me down_

_No one could keep me around_

_- Boys Like Girls_

Now It's Your Turn, Take A Shot

Jess Mariano always knew Liz was incapable of handling things herself, but he never expected her to actually _do_ something about it.

He was barely given a day to gather whatever was in arm's reach and hop on a bus to _Stars Hollow_, Connecticut. What kind of name _is_ that? It's ridiculous, childish; something out of a fairytale, which is rather fitting since Liz always goes on and _on_ about what a _prince_ his Uncle Luke really is.

Please.

He pulls out his book and tries to read, but he's just so goddamn _distracted_ by all these open fields! And are there seriously _cows_? Geez, someone just shoot him now.

"Next stop, Stars Hollow."

Fuck. Could he just stay on this bus and keep going? Maybe stop at Boston? He wishes he could, but he knows he has no money, no thanks to Liz for managing to find his cash stash. How the hell did she _find_ that anyway? He hid that in a hollowed out book by _Tolstoy_.

This all just pisses him off to no end.

"Stars Hollow."

F. U. C. K. What does that spell?

He stuffs his book into his bag and let's everyone exit the bus before he does. And when he shoulders his duffel bag and walks off the bus, he comes face-to-face with Liz's beloved brother.

Jess' uncle, Luke Danes is actually a lumberjack. He kind of wants to laugh at this entire situation, because it's just comical. There is _no_ way this guy is remotely related to him.

"Jess," Luke says awkwardly.

"Luke," Jess says back, switching his duffel to his other shoulder. He is not going to make this easy for him.

But oh _man_ Luke's awkward. He attempts to engage Jess in conversation, trying to make him feel welcome, but he should really just give up now. Luke is definitely one of those nonsocial people who would live on the top of a mountain without any human contact if he had the choice.

So Jess gets out of the small apartment as quickly as possible, pack of cigarettes and book in hand. When he steps outside, he can't believe his eyes. What is _with_ this town?

_This is hell_.

Jess sticks his cigarettes and book in his back pocket and begins walking, nearly run over by a mom and her two matching kids. This town _sucks_, and he can't believe Liz is _doing_ this to him.

He _really_ hopes he'll be able to find _something_ (or someone…not likely) here worthwhile. Otherwise, he might just go insane like all the rest of these people.

* * *

A/N: Please, please review! It will make me feel better given that I'm drowning in work before finals! Those who do review - you guys are so amazing!

Remember: I accept suggestions! It may take a while to get to yours, but I promise you I'm doing my best!

MissGoalie


	16. Are You Having A Good Time, Sweetheart?

A/N: This and the next oneshot are going to be related.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Kisses under starry night skies_

_Talked about in song_

_We play along_

_So bittersweet by our design_

_- All Time Low_

Are You Having A Good Time, Sweetheart?

"Jess! What are we _doing_?" Rory asks, laughing as she allows him to lead her by the hand across the street. "You_ never_ want to school during the designated hours, what –"

He takes her to the side of the building where there's a ladder well hidden in the shadows. The smile slips off her face. "You can't be serious," she says.

He grins mischievously. Without a word, he begins climbing.

"Jess!" Rory hisses, stepping away from the wall.

"What? Come on!" he calls halfway up the ladder.

She looks around her, hoping to find some sort of escape route, or a way to get Jess down. But after a minute, she marches up to the ladder and begins climbing. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she mutters to herself.

Despite the rust rubbing off the metal onto her hands, the ladder's pretty stable and doesn't give as she makes her way to the top of the building. When she does, she finds Jess holding his hands out for her with his knowing smirk on his face.

"I knew you'd succumb to temptation."

She can't help but think that she succumbed to temptation the moment she impulsively kissed him at Sookie's wedding.

She releases the ladder to grab one of his hands. How is that every time they manage to touch, she still feels tingly? Even with handholding?

He helps her up and they both stare at the massive sky stretched above them.

"In the city you can't see the stars," Jess adds to break the silence.

"That's sad. So you've never just…lied on your back and stared at the stars before?"

"No."

She sighs before she walks backwards so she's on the middle of the roof. He follows her.

"Lie down."

He salutes her before getting on his back. He hears her sit down and feels the top of her head touch his.

"Why aren't you next to me?" he inquires. He was hoping that perhaps they could have a little _fun_ up here.

"So our minds can be linked. Just look up the sky and be quiet."

He rolls his eyes but closes his mouth and stares at the sky. The sky is really clear tonight, hundreds of stars shining his vision, but he obviously knows there are so many more that he can't see.

"Do you believe in God?" Rory asks in a quiet voice.

Jess snorts. "Really, Rory?"

"No, come on. I'm curious. Do you believe in some…higher power?"

He sighs, deep in thought. He _thinks_ he used to believe in God when he was younger. And he thinks he may have gotten on his knees and prayed to this God to fix his mom. Instead he got Bad Husband Number Two who taught him the art of holding back tears.

Then he stopped. God can't exist because isn't He supposed to love all His children? And if that's true, why the _hell_ was Jess dealt with such a shitty hand?

But then he remembers the one good card he has: Rory.

So what does that mean?

He begins to feel anxious, because he's gone for _so_ long without believing in anything. He's an _atheist_! There's _nothing_ out there, there's _no one_ behind the curtain, trying to control everything.

But he keeps coming back to Rory, and it's scaring him. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He doesn't want to look at these _damn_, twinkling stars. He wants to be alone…maybe with Rory in a dark room so all he can think about is her and the crazy chemistry they share…anything but this.

But he can sense their time is coming to an end, even though he doesn't want it to. He doesn't know how they're going to fall apart, but it'll happen. Warm weather always seems to drive them apart.

"Nights like these make me think that there has to be sort of higher power out there," Rory admits quietly into the silence, and Jess knows she's being honest, and it feels so raw.

He reaches behind him and says, "Rory."

She automatically throws her hand back and their hands meet in a tight grip, as if they're each other's lifelines. Maybe she is; he's not completely sure. But he does know that she's his anchor; the only reason he's still here.

* * *

A/N: Please, please,_please _review! It'll make me really happy! Especially since finals are coming up :(

MissGoalie


	17. I Can Finally See

A/N: Read the previous one first, you'll get this better.

While "Fireflies" is a very good song, I think "Meteor Shower" is the best one on _Ocean Eyes_.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I am not my own_

_For I have been made new_

_- Owl City_

I Can Finally See

"To us!"

Jess and his two new roommates, Chris and Matthew, clink their beer bottles together and take a swig.

Matthew finishes his bottle on the spot and whoops loudly, clashing with the sounds of honking and yelling in the streets. Jess looks around at the various rooftops around him and smirks a little; something as small of a rebellion as standing on a roof gives him a bit of pleasure.

"This is so _cool_! We're actually making a profit, guys!" Matthew exclaims gleefully.

Chris rolls his eyes. "Hardly. It's only a few bucks, really."

"Not for long! Soon we'll be successful and then maybe we can finally rent the _entire_ building!"

"Too optimistic for your own good." Chris shakes his head, his dark hair bouncing. "Well, Mariano? What do you think? Your book helped us out a bit."

Jess sips his beer and looks at his roommates. "Not bad."

And it's not, at all. They finally have a few clients and have been making a bit of a profit. And of course, Jess's recently published novel has been selling better than they expected. While they still have to work second jobs in order to cover the rent, it's definitely getting better.

Matthew sighs and sits down on the ground, stretching himself out.

"Are you drunk already?" Chris inquires.

"No! I'm just looking at the sky." Matthew slaps the two empty spots on either side of him. "Come on, gents!"

To amuse him, Chris and Jess lay down on either side of Matthew. Chris pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers Jess one, and he accepts it, but he twirls the stick in between his fingers, not bothering to light it. He's been doing this a lot lately.

The sky is dark, tinted orange and grey from the streetlights and smog.

"This is a pretty sucky place to stargaze," Chris states. "You know, given the lack of _stars_."

"Stop! We're going to look back on this night years from now and we'll say, 'Yeah, this was the beginning of it all,'" Matthew retorts.

Jess ignores them, keeping his breath steady. Tonight's the first relatively warm night of spring and he's feeling pretty good. He just wants Matthew to stop talking.

After a few minutes of silence, Matthew says, "Nights like these make me think that there has to be some sort of higher power out there."

Jess inhales sharply and he's immediately thrown back to that night on top of the roof with Rory. How did he possibly forget that? Now it's as if he's caught in between two places at once and Rory is lying opposite him, but Chris and Matthew are still here.

Such different times and circumstances. He still misses her more than he could, or would ever say, but he's okay with everything now.

He feels his heart stop beating. He's _okay_. He doesn't feel the need to hold onto Rory in order to stay still while staring at the sky, wondering.

Is this contentment?

Sure, his life is hardly the fast track to success; Luke probably wouldn't get it and Principal Merton certainly wouldn't hesitate to call him a failure anyway. But this is fine. More than fine, actually. For once he doesn't want to run away from his life.

In a rare moment, Jess smiles.

Yeah, he's pretty content.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it; please review! It'll cheer me up, especially since my worst final is tomorrow!

MissGoalie


	18. I Can’t Even Look At You

A/N: I'm not a huge T-Swift fan, but she has cute songs. And when I heard this one I thought: normally girls want the guys to chase after them…but does the opposite ever occur?

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_So babe, if you know everything, tell me why you couldn't see_

_When I left I wanted you to chase after me, yeah_

_- Taylor Swift_

I Can't Even Look At You

Jess knew he was a master of screwing things up, but it amazes him how he was able to royally fuck the pooch on this one, and in less than fifteen minutes.

As he walks away from that damned house party, he mentally lashes at himself for his incapability of acting like a normal human being.

Why, _why_ did he act like that with Rory? It wasn't even that he expected to actually have sex with her right then; he knew she would never agree to that. Hell, he wanted to do better than that for her. And _yelling_ at her like that? He doesn't think he'll ever get her hurt and confused expression out of his head. "_What did I do?"_

Nothing. Nothing at all.

And for that matter, why the fuck didn't he just _tell_ her that he was flunking out of high school in the first place? _I'm not going to college, why waste the time in high school?_ He told her that, so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise, right?

But that was before _everything_. She probably hoped (and expected) that he would eventually get over this "rebellious" phase and go to college.

This isn't a rebellion; he's not doing this on purpose. It wasn't a phase. It's _not_ a phase. School isn't for him, and this makes his life that much harder because he's got to get his shit together _right now_. Rory has the luxury of another four or so years to figure it all out.

The sense of panic and anxiousness that's been filling his chest ever since the beginning of second semester expands until he feels that he can't breathe.

He turns around for the first time and a lump fills his throat. Rory didn't come after him.

He thought he wanted to be alone after that fight with Dean, but now he realizes that he doesn't want that at all. He wants to talk to Rory and try and salvage what's left of their relationship; he hoped that she would recognize that.

But by the looks of things, with his standing alone on their deserted bridge with a months-old pack of cigarettes, she didn't understand him. Does he do this to himself?

He wishes he could be better this, and yet he wishes she could be a little more perceptive.

But it's fine, whatever. He'll be gone soon anyway; this night kind of solidified his decision. He wants to say he's relieved to leave this town for good, but he can't help but be a little disappointed to discover that Rory isn't enough.

And he knows when she finds out she's going to be disappointed too.

* * *

A/N: Agh, depressing. Since it's the holiday season I want to write a happy one...so the next one or maybe the one after that will be happy/not depressing. Yay!

PLEASE REVIEW!

MissGoalie


	19. But I’ll Figure It Out

A/N: So yeah...about that happy oneshot? Didn't happen. This came out instead. I'm sorry, I tried, but I just wasn't into the idea of writing Jess/Rory fluff because all my ideas ended up being so cheesy and OOC that I gave up.

Dedicated to my cousin, who betas all my oneshots. England + Smoking British Kid + Song feat. Taylor Swift = everything she could ever want.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I remember every look upon your face_

_The way you roll your eyes_

_The way you taste_

_You make it hard for breathing_

_- Boys Like Girls_

But I'll Figure It Out

London is the first stop on their European adventure. Rory and Lorelai took a red eye, but they were way too excited to actually sleep. But now that they're here, they're regretting not sleeping. So as soon as they found a hostel, they collapsed onto bed.

But while Lorelai is able to fall asleep quickly, Rory isn't. Her body is tired, but she feels anxious; she's thinking too much. And she can't think, not right now. Because she knows where her thoughts will go.

She gets up without a sound and puts on her shoes. What she would really like to do is go for a walk, but she doesn't know her way around this foreign city. So she ends up standing outside the hostel, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling awkward. She takes a deep breath, and almost chokes; there's so much smoke around her.

Tears fill her eyes. It always reminded her of Jess; the smell of cigarettes never quite left his clothes, even as he slowly gave up the habit.

She wonders if he picked it up again, now that she isn't with him.

A waft of smoke comes her way and she holds her breath. Looking for the perpetrator, she finds him a few feet to her right: he's lanky, and he dresses a little like Dave, but his hair is shaggy and falls in his eyes. The Smoker glances at Rory and she blushes before looking down at her feet. She didn't mean to stare.

"Fag?"

She turns to see the Smoker is now about a foot away, holding out a pack of cigarettes. _Huh. That school of yours is really paying off._

She swallows. "Excuse me?"

"Oh. American. Cigarette, I mean," he corrects himself. She likes his accent a lot.

She's about to say no, but the word gets stuck in her throat. Instead, she nods, shocking him and herself.

"Really? Wow, I didn't think you would actually say yes. Just wanted an excuse to talk to you," he admits, his brown eyes wide.

Rory talks a cigarette and rolls it between her fingers. "Are you flirting with me?" she asks honestly, feeling a bit bold. It could be because of the lack of sleep. She's also numb (it's the only way she can get through the days), so her embarrassment doesn't kick in like it normally would.

"A little. But you don't seem very interested."

"I just got out of…" Her throat closes up and she can't seem to breathe. She _never_ thought she would say that. It sounds so…_girlie_. But then again, Jess was always so good at doing that to her.

"Ah. Gotcha."

Rory bites her bottom lip hard to prevent from crying. "Do you have a lighter?"

The Smoker nods and hands her a cheap one that he must've gotten at a drug store. It takes her a few times to get a flame, but when she does she eyes the stick warily. What are you _doing_, she yells in her head. She's well aware of the dangers of smoking. More than once she relayed her knowledge to Jess.

Is she really that desperate to be close to him?

She brings the cigarette to her lips and inhales a little, but she still coughs like crazy afterwards, causing the Smoker to chuckle.

"First time," he states rather than questions.

Rory gulps in some fresh air and nods.

"Nasty habit, you know."

"It's just this once," she says quietly before bringing the cigarette back to her mouth again.

The nicotine makes her jittery, kind of like having one too many cups of coffee. But the taste throws her back to nights on her couch, her tongue exploring his mouth, always knowing whether he smoked that day or not. No matter how many times he brushed his teeth, she could always tell.

Tears fall down her face and she doesn't bother wiping them away.

The Smoker hands her a handkerchief, which almost makes her laugh. She didn't think anyone carried those except for proper old people, like her grandparents. "He must've been some bloke, huh?"

She lets out a sob and takes a drag, ignoring his gesture. For some reason, she _wants_ to feel the tears roll down her face, because eventually they'll dry up. And maybe then, she'll be able to move on.

_His_ knowing smirk comes to her mind, and she kind of knows he's right; she's never really going to get over this.

But she's going to try her _damned_ hardest. She refuses to let everyone see her anguish, because she knows no one is going to understand it. Stars Hollow is too small of a town to understand the (potential) greatness of Jess Mariano and his (beautifully) powerful effect on her.

She loosens her hold on the cigarette and allows it to fall on the sidewalk. It was making her sick (she's not sure if it's nausea or she's just sick with wanting him).

"Thanks for the cigarette. Or the fag. Whatever you call it here."

"My pleasure. Enjoy your stay in London, Yankee."

She gives him a weak smile before turning her back on his to go back inside the hostel. But before she does, she turns around and says, "Could you say something stereotypically British?"

He sighs. "Will it make you smile?"

"Yes."

"Cheerio, mate! Bloody hell, that's wicked! Jolly good! Toodle-pip!"

She laughs, making him chuckle. "Thank you," she says, curling her hair behind her ear.

He pulls out another cigarette from his pack and nods to her. "Cheers."

She smiles again. "Okay. I should go back in. Nice meeting you…?" she trails off, realizing she doesn't know his name.

He lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. Smoke escapes his mouth as he says, "Oliver."

She tries to hold back laughter. "No."

"Oh yes."

She's looking at him with her patent puppy eyes; no one can resist those. Even the one boy with a seeming heart of stone.

So it's no surprise to her when he sighs in defeat. "Please sir, I want some more."

Rory laughs loudly again, feeling much better.

"Alright, I'm done with having a bloody Yank laughing at me. Go back inside…"

"Rory. My name is Rory."

He nods, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. "Rory."

With her hand on the door, she's about to open it when he says, "You'll be alright, Rory."

She finally enters the hostel, but she lingers in the doorway for a few seconds. The bitterness in her mouth forever links to the taste of cigarettes. It'll be a long time before she'll be able to think of him without feeling like her heart is tearing apart, but she'll figure it out.

* * *

A/N: ...And on that note...happy holidays! I'm going away next week and won't be back until 2010 so I won't be able to update until then.

Don't forget to review on your way out!

MissGoalie


	20. You Keep Distracting Me

A/N: Hey guys! It's 2010! Yay!

Dedicated to **Gilmoregirl19**, because she suggested this song to me :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_When green meets red and red meets blue_

_I want to see all of you, all of you, all of you_

_- Matt Wertz_

You Keep Distracting Me

"She's not home."

Jess stops walking out of the apartment, freezing while he runs his hand through his hair. He wasn't that obvious…was he?

He pretends to think for a bit before asking, "Who?"

"She's at Sookie's wedding with Dean. They're still together. They seem to have gotten through the whole car incident."

Jess rolls his eyes. Of course, nothing can break the _golden_ couple.

"They're doing really good, Dean and Rory," Luke continues.

"Good," Jess says, his mouth twitching. They're hardly perfect.

"Just leave it alone, Jess," Luke says, as if he understands. Jess turns around and looks Luke in the eye as he continues talking. "She's got a boyfriend. Just…let it go."

No. He won't (can't). "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just going out for a walk." _But thanks for telling me where she is, Uncle Luke_, he wants to add, but he just continues walking away.

"You heard what I said?" Luke practically demands.

Without missing a beat, Jess says, "Yeah, I heard what you said," as he shuts the door behind him.

As he strolls to the Independence Inn, he can't help but find this ironic. At first he wanted nothing more than to get out of this creepy town. But here he is again, this time willingly. Of course, this is all because of a certain blue-eyed girl with a mediocre taste in literature; being a Rand fan and a Hemingway hater automatically makes her taste questionable. But he doesn't care, she kind of makes up for it with other things.

She used to be a distraction for him, a way to keep him sane in this town. But now it seems she's off-putting him from things he didn't think were possible. Like his personality. He's kind of changing; no one else can possibly tell, but he knows she's the cause.

_Geez_, what is she _doing_ to him?

But when she kisses him thoughtlessly (but keenly), he feels like he's also changing her. Or maybe he's just beginning to see all of Rory Gilmore, which is what he wants. He wants to see the good, the bad, the sexy, the vulnerable, the mischievous, the beautiful, and everything else of her; he'll take it all.

* * *

A/N: Please, please review! It'll add to my current happiness of the JETS making the playoffs!!! Sorry Texans for taking away your chance, and the Bengals can suck it!

MissGoalie


	21. Wasted Time On You

A/N: I wonder what Jess did that summer Rory was in Washington…

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Don't get me wrong_

_I know you've got your life in place_

_I've yet to take the hint_

_Someday I'm sure I'll get the picture_

_And stop waiting up_

_- All Time Low_

Wasted Time On You

**i.**

The first week of summer is elating. He's almost…_happy_. Luke doesn't understand why Jess is more complacent, agreeable, but he doesn't complain. Jess occasionally licks his lips, still unwilling to shake the memory of her mouth on his. He hopes she keeps that ChapStick through the summer so he can taste it again when she comes back.

**ii.**

He's still in a good mood, but he's a little anxious, opting to take the chair by the phone whenever Luke and he are both in the room (even when Luke isn't in the room). And he always offers to get the mail, hoping that maybe he'll see her neat handwriting on an envelope. She's still settling in, he thinks as he forces himself to refocus on _The Fountainhead_. This girl makes him do strange things, but he doesn't object.

**iii.**

He's expecting a call, a letter, _anything_. But as the days go on, he begins to deflate. For the first time, he considers the possibility that she regrets what happened. He tries to think optimistically; she's probably been busy in Washington. But if that's the case, why has Lorelai received three postcards and almost-daily phone calls?

**iv.**

His mood is turning sour, and Luke begins to notice the change. But since they don't communicate often (they try and avoid it), Luke doesn't pry. Jess doesn't sit by the phone anymore, but when he goes out, he rushes back at the end of the day to check for messages.

There are never any.

**v.**

When Jess sees Dean the Bag Boy reading a letter from Rory, something snaps in him. Rory's not avoiding both guys, as he might've thought; she's only avoiding _him_. Jess is tempted to go up to Dean and _brag_ that Rory kissed him, with Dean not even a few hundred yards away. But he kind of promised Rory that he wouldn't. So he keeps their kiss close to him, but he's so very bitter about it. He can't remember the taste of the ChapStick on her lips, but he knows he'll suddenly remember when he sees her at the end of summer. It'll make him sick.

He still kind of hopes she'll call.

**vi.**

Face it, Mariano, she's not going to contact you. His trademark scowl is back and he lashes out at customers when they annoy him. Luke doesn't understand why Jess has regressed, but Jess doesn't stick around the apartment anymore. Still, he never gives up the hope that Luke will come in and say, "You have a letter," or, "Rory left you a message."

Whenever Luke opens his mouth and those words don't come out, Jess glowers at him.

**vii.**

It's almost the end of the summer and he needs to stop waiting for her. It's something _Dean_ would've done. So he goes to a party and finds the biggest tramp in Stars Hollow and shoves his tongue in her more than willing mouth. She tastes of strawberry-flavored vodka and lipstick.

This doesn't even compare, not even for a second.

**viii.**

He sees Rory at the stupid summer festival and is so glad he has Shane as a barrier between them. With satisfaction, he watches her face drop with shock and sadness. But then that satisfaction dissipates and changes into self-hatred, because she'll never know that he _did_ wait for her and this was a last minute, botched plan just to make him seem less pathetic. To save face.

He watches her and Dean walk around the town, the golden couple once again, and he wonders why he's doing this; her life is perfect as it is. Why did he waste his summer, and why should he _continue_ to waste his time on a girl who's tied down already?

All his explanations start with _because she's…_

Too bad he's too afraid to finish them, knowing that they'll reveal how deep in it he really is.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys - thanks for those who favor the story and myself!

Don't forget to review! It's common courtesy!

MissGoalie


	22. Somebody Clear the Wreckage

A/N: Even though we've seen these two guys for maybe five minutes collectively, I'm fascinated. Especially with Matthew, the anal one.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Yeah, I just need light_

_I need light in the dark_

_As I search for the resolution_

_- Jack's Mannequin_

Somebody Clear the Wreckage From the Blast

"Matthew…why are you creepily staring at that guy?"

Matthew shakes himself out of his stupor to look at Chris, whose green eyes are reflecting fear, concern, and confusion.

"Nothing he's just…he's new here."

Chris and Matthew both look over to the guy in the corner by the windows. He has messy black hair and a poker face. There's a book in front of him and a pencil in his hand, which he uses to occasionally make notes in the margins. At his feet is a worn out duffel bag, only held together by a few threads.

"New people come here everyday," Chris responds logically.

"Yeah, I know, but he's definitely new to Philly."

"And you would know," Chris says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, I may have lived in the suburbs, but I've been hanging out here for _years_," Matthew retorts, shooting Chris a rare glare.

Chris holds up his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine. But so what. What's so _interesting_ about this guy? Do you have a man-crush on him or something?"

Matthew shoves Chris hard. "No! He's just…he's interesting. He could be a potential partner."

"For the publishing house?"

"No, for the hotdog stand we've been planning to set up in New York. _Yes_, the publishing house."

"Hey! I'm just shocked that you would go out on a whim and ask a random person to work with us. You're more cautious than most of the human race."

"I'm not completely anal! I'll go up to him right now and ask, if you don't believe I can do it."

"Alright. Be my guest." Chris gestures to the Stranger's table with an amused smile on his face. Matthew scoffs, but he gets up and walks with purpose, making Chris chuckle.

As soon as Matthew gets within a few feet of the Stranger, his eyes glance to Matthew, scanning him over. Deeming him unimportant (or harmless), the Stranger goes back to reading. Picking up the book, he makes a note in the margin.

"Funny, I would've pegged you for an Ayn Rand hater," Matthew comments out loud.

"Well you would've pegged correctly, then," the Stranger quips back, not looking at Matthew as he flips over to the next page.

"Then why are you reading it?" Matthew asks innocently.

The Stranger freezes, as if he's just remembered something that he was supposed to do at the last minute. His jaw slacks a bit, as if he's about to say something, but he clenches it and ignores Matthew.

Matthew sighs and runs a hand through his hair before he pulls a chair from another table and sits down on it. The Stranger puts his book down to stare pointedly at Matthew, silently demanding what the fuck he's doing; he clearly wants to be _alone_.

"Look I know what kind of person you are. I get it. You fell into this stereotype because for years, people have been putting you there. And you were young; you couldn't really fight it. You were just trying to survive. And maybe you really are some of these things. You're aloof, a little dark inside, have a penchant for chaos. Untrusting. But you're also all these other things that people refuse to see, or maybe you hide them because you think everyone's not worth it. But there _are _people out there who care and who _are_ worth it. Maybe you figured that out already and that's why you're forcing yourself to read that book. It reminds you of her. Or maybe it's some broken promise you made and you think that finishing it will make you seem like less of an asshole." Matthew shifts in his chair a bit, never allowing his gaze to falter.

"But you need to know something. There are other people like you out there. Not exactly like you, but those who have been labeled before they had the chance to realize their identity. We're everywhere."

Matthew reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a pen. He writes something on a napkin and slides it over to Jess. "If you're interested in talking to someone like you, my friend and I work at a publishing house and we could use another set of hands."

He stands up and walks back to where Chris is sitting, and he has an incredulous look on his face.

"What the hell did you _bombard_ him with?" Chris demands in a hiss. "You're such a demented person!"

"Hey, he needed to hear what I told him. Trust me, man."

Matthew looks over at the Stranger and sees him scribbling on a napkin, his eyes narrowed.

"Let's get out of here. I feel awkward now, thanks to you," Chris spits.

Matthew takes another glance and sighs. "Fine."

But right as they stand up, the Stranger strides over and slaps a napkin in front of Matthew, his eyes full of stipulation. Matthew looks down at the napkin, recognizes the words written on it, and smirks. "'Guns of Brixton,' good Clash song."

Matthew enjoys the faint look of surprise on the Stranger's face. But it's soon emotionless and he says, "Do I have to lay down any cash? I'm flat-out broke."

"Nah. I can cover for you. You'll pay me back later."

He looks ready to dismiss it, because he's clearly the kind of guy who hates owing people anything, but eventually he nods slowly. "Fine."

"Unless you're a writer."

The Stranger glances at Chris briefly before his intense eyes resting on Matthew, trying to read him. "I may have something," the Stranger admits.

Matthew grins. "Well let's see it!"

Letting out a small, inaudible sigh, the Stranger walks back to his table to grab his duffel bag and bring it back to Chris and Matthew's table. Loosening the drawstrings, he shuffles around for a bit before pulling out a red school-lined notebook. The Stranger plops the notebook in front of Matthew, nonchalance oozing from his posture. But Matthew thinks he can see the disquiet hidden in his secret eyes.

Matthew picks up the notebook and looks at Chris.

"What's your name?" Matthew inquires.

"Jess."

"I'm Matthew. That's Chris. We work at Truncheon Books."

Jess smirks a little at the name.

"I'm sorry, man, he's kind of…" Chris starts, shaking his head in shame. Jess' mouth twitches a bit.

Suspicious that Matthew didn't complain or make a comment, Chris looks over to find Matthew _engrossed_ with Jess' notebook. "We have to publish this, Chris," Matthew whispers, his eyes wide, never leaving the notebook.

"What?" Chris and Jess say at the same time.

Matthew reluctantly hands Chris the notebook. "Dude…who are you?" Matthew asks in awe, staring at Jess with newfound respect.

Jess' brow furrows in confusion. This certainly is not the reaction he expected.

"That…I don't know. Usually I try and find connections to writers. Kerouac. Hemingway. The usual suspects. But you…" Matthew shakes his head in disbelief. "_Nothing_. I mean…you clearly read. You _must_ read."

Jess kicks his duffel bag to Matthew, nodding to him. Matthew opens the bag and his eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets: there are more books than articles of clothing.

"Damn, Jess, whoever you are. This is…awesome," Chris says, glancing up from the notebook. "It's a little rough at parts. But we can work with that. And as much as it pains me to say this…Matthew's right. This should be published."

"You serious?" Jess inquires, trying not to get his hopes up.

"Definitely," Chris and Matthew say at the same time.

Jess eyes them for a moment before shrugging. "Okay."

Matthew has a giddy moment, frightening Jess and Chris. "Great!" He holds out his hand for Jess, who grasps it hesitantly. But for the first time in a long time, Jess is beginning to see the metaphoric light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe this is it.

* * *

A/N: You know what to do ;) (HINT: REVIEW!)

JETS WIN AGAIN! Do any of you guys watch football? If so, what's your team?

MissGoalie


	23. Misery Love Me

A/N: I was listening to music that I loved in middle school, and I just had to add this song for the one dance that Jess and Rory ever went to (TEAR TEAR).

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Dance, dance_

_We're falling apart to halftime_

_Dance, dance_

_And these are the lives you'd love to lead_

_- Fall Out Boy_

Misery Love Me

He honestly feels a little bad for her. She can't last a whole day with only a small thermostat of coffee. (The _only_ reason why he knows this is because a few minutes after he arrived with whatshername, Rory lamented how she wanted more coffee, at least another thermostat. And she said this loudly, so it wasn't as if he was purposefully straining his ears to hear her. Of course not). But add exercise to the agenda, and Rory Gilmore will fall apart at the seams.

Or just half-sleep on her more-than-willing boyfriend.

Jess fiddles with the book in his hands as he watches Dean with a dorky grin on his face. Why does Rory _continue_ to be with this guy? She's trying to keep a failing relationship together. And it's pathetic.

Almost as pathetic as hooking up with one girl just to piss off _another_ girl.

He would honestly feel bad doing this, if she – _Shane!_ – weren't such a bitch to begin with. Perhaps one day she'll realize that her life is devoid of any substance and she's just another ignorant slut. But right now, she's pretty damn useful to him, so he's not complaining too much.

But this is how it's supposed to be, or at least this is how Rory wants it to be. The _bad boy_ goes for the slut, the _good girl_ stays with the _golden boy_…it's perfect.

"I'm bored," Shane drones.

Jess closes his book. "Okay." He leans over and kisses her, thinking for the millionth time that this isn't nearly as good as it should be.

"There they go again!" he manages to catch Rory complaining.

He smirks against Shane's lips. Rory may want things to be this way, but that doesn't mean she's _completely _satisfied with it, and Jess will continue to play on this one flaw of hers.

* * *

A/N: I hate to pester you guys, but really, I'm getting at least 100+ hits per chapter, and only 2-4 people on average review? Don't be shy - _review_!

As always, my eternal thanks to those who do review nearly every update!

MissGoalie


	24. They Were A Dangerous Pair

A/N: Dean is really thick in this scene.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Inquisitive and thoughtful_

_She was the challenge he'd been waiting for_

_- All Time Low_

They Were A Dangerous Pair

"Of course," she says, confirming his original inquiry of _Dean_ being her boyfriend.

Oh, _geez_. She's going out with this jerk? _Dean_? He's actually twelve feet tall, and Jess swears he can hear the squeaky wheels of the dope's puny mind slowly turning as he spews out words.

Rory is _better_ than this! She's the only decent person in this damn town; Jess is actually disappointed that she's dating the biggest townie of them all. Although he gives her credit for looking beyond the image and not immediately labeling people, he really can't see any sort of appeal to Dean, besides the prince charming thing he _apparently _has going on. But even that has to lose its luster at some point.

"Sorry. You didn't say." He turns his attention to Dean and asks, "How you doing?" with his voice louder and little slower than normal, as if talking to someone with mental disabilities.

"Good. Good."

Jess tries not to roll his eyes.

"Okay, see you around," Rory says, feeling the tension that _Dean_ is so unaware of.

"Seems to turn out that way, doesn't it?" Jess replies, looking into Rory's eyes before glancing to Dean, who still doesn't get it.

_He will though_, Jess thinks as he smirks and walks away from the _happy_ couple.

It's inevitable. The entire situation. Jess knows _exactly_ how it's going to work out. He and Rory will get closer, and Dean will eventually begin to pick up on this. Jealousy and protectiveness will consume him until it all drives Rory away. It'll be difficult, given that Rory is a smart person who has deluded herself in an impossible fairytale relationship, but it's a challenge that Jess is ready and willing to face.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this is really short, but I've been stuck in the middle of some family fights lately...not a lot of time for writing.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING! You have no idea how happy it made me :) Please keep doing it!

MissGoalie


	25. Then I Will Never Live Freely

A/N: Oh dear, this is so, so short. Honestly, I didn't want to make it long and sappy, because I just can't see Jess acting like that. Especially when he's doing something that may be considered sentimental.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Somehow you have managed to get under my skin_

_More than anyone ever did_

_- Automatic Loveletter_

Then I Will Never Live Freely Without Your Trace

After a brush with death in an alley, Jess goes into a sketchy tattoo parlor and gets a small tattoo on the inside of his left wrist.

To be completely honest, he never thought he would actually get a tattoo. He knows that he could never pull off the large, intimidating tattoos that cover limbs, despite having the perfect, stereotypical attitude and personality. Tattoos in general just seem like a mistake; eventually you'll end up regretting them.

But after he was placed at knife point in the middle of a deserted alley at night, being demanded to hand over all the cash in his pockets, he just lied on the ground for a while, images and thoughts flashing in his mind, thinking about what would've happened if he had died. Would Luke have been upset? Probably, despite the fact that they parted on less than stellar terms.

Liz probably wouldn't have realized that her son stopped calling her every few months, still (and always) in a stupor of some sorts.

And Rory.

Would she have still hated him? Or would her hate have died along with him? And she never would've known the truth of it all, and that's what bothers him the most about the idea of a premature death.

So he now has _Dodger_ in-scripted on his skin for the rest of his life. Besides, if he does end up dying before seeing her again, when the police recover the body, there will be something left behind for Rory to see. She'll know that he did care about her more than anyone else in his fucked up life.

Of course, a few days later he calls Liz and finds out that Luke stole his car. So now he has an incentive to come back to Stars Hallow and possibly see Rory. So he does end up regretting the tattoo.

But now it becomes a reminder; physical proof that goodness, _she, _exists and actually affected him.

* * *

A/N: I hope this was somewhat interesting.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	26. Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year?

A/N: I don't know about you guys, but I feel that we were totally gypped with not having a chance to see Jess/Richard interactions on screen. Those two definitely would've gotten along.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Condemned from the start_

_Ashamed of the way_

_The songs and the words own the beating of our hearts_

_- Fall Out Boy_

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year?

Richard looks out the window and sees the most beat-up car entering his driveway, playing loud music. Did the driver make a wrong turn somewhere? Well, if he doesn't leave the driveway in a minute, then he will have to call the proper authorities.

Nothing surprises him more when Rory exits the car, laughing, clutching a book closely to her chest. The driver's door opens to reveal a devilishly handsome boy with a lopsided grin on his face.

Is this the infamous Jess Mariano? Rory's boyfriend who showed up with a black eye? Emily ranted to him on the phone about him a few weeks ago, and how he was most unsavory, barely talking at all, and storming out before the main course, no less! He was not charming, although she reluctantly admitted that he was very good looking.

And she conveyed her hopes that they would end quickly.

Richard frowns a bit in disappointment. Why would his sweet, intelligent, albeit naïve, granddaughter date such a person?

Jess is talking to Rory, moving slowly toward her, but she backs away, still grinning with a hint of mischief. Then the boy runs over to her and she squeals as she holds the book away from his prying hands.

By the looks of things, they seem very happy.

Jess successfully grabs the book and stealthily traps her in his arms, the book pressing into the small of her back. They stare at each other their foreheads resting against one another's for a moment before they meet for a kiss. Just when Richard begins to feel distinctly uncomfortable, Jess pulls away and nods toward the house. Rory groans and pulls Jess back to her, and Richard can tell that this boy is _smitten_ with her. What was his wife talking about? This is a completely different boy than the one who met Emily.

Jess pulls away and flips through the book, completely captivated. Ah, he's a reader. Definitely a step up from that Dean fellow.

And then Richard remembers hearing about Jess ruining Rory and Dean's relationship, which reminds him of his own relationship with Linny Lott that was ruined by Emily. Well, no wonder she doesn't like Jess!

Rory kisses Jess' cheek and waves to him as she comes over to the door.

Jess looks over and smiles at her retreating back, managing to catch Richard still staring through the window. Jess closes the book and nods to Richard.

Richard nods back, shocked and incapable of forming thoughts.

Jess looks down at the book again, skimming through a few of the pages before closing it again, glancing toward the house once more, and then heading back to his car.

Richard hears the doorbell and waits a few moments, to seem as if he was just in the next room, before opening the door and greeting Rory.

"Hello, Rory, you look lovely this evening," Richard says, beaming at his granddaughter.

Rory blushes for a bit and looks down at her face. "Thanks, Grandpa."

Richard glances over his shoulder to see Jess driving out.

"Who was that?" Richard inquires.

Rory bites her lip, and for a moment Richard feels sorry for her, for what had happened with his wife and that disastrous dinner. The poor boy will never get a second chance like Dean.

"Jess. My boyfriend," Rory explains quietly, not wanting Lorelai or Emily to hear his name; they clearly don't like him.

Richard places a hand on Rory's shoulder. "He likes to read?"

Her eyebrows furrow. "Yeah, he does. He's read more than I have." She sighs a little. "It's just so unfair that Grandma and Mom refuse to see the good in him. And there is! He's just…closed off. But he's smart, _really_ smart. And he has this passion for reading…and…"

He's sorry that he missed the single opportunity to meet this enigma. This Jess sounds like a character from a novel, and he seems fascinating. Complex. He let Emily's words warp his opinion and assumptions on this boy whom he'd never met, which is ignorant and wrong. Richard wonders if this boy has been getting that all his life.

"Well, if he's a reader, he must be a decent fellow. Besides, it looked like he fancies you quite a bit."

She flushes. "You saw…?"

Richard only chuckles and puts an arm around her shoulders. "Ah, young love."

If Rory believes him to be of good character, then there's no reason for Richard not to think the same.

* * *

A/N: You know what I love about _Gilmore Girls_? No matter how many times you watch it, you can always pick up on a piece of information about a character. Take Linny Lott – she was mentioned in season three, episode eight! Remember her: she was (supposedly) engaged to Richard, and Emily (apparently) split them up! Hmm…the basic premise sounds similar? I thought so :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	27. She Has A Way Of Taking Over You

A/N: While listening to this song, I was at first sensing some Jess vibes. But then after listening to it more, I found myself thinking about Dean, and in the end, I was more inspired to write about the Bag Boy; this relates to him better.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_And there's something in her eyes that makes me stay_

_But her expectations are too great for me_

_So she'll leave me for the man I'll never be_

_She took all I had from beginning to end_

_- Trading Yesterday_

She Has A Way Of Taking Over You

Even though they're so close, in each other's arms at this stupid dance marathon, Dean has never felt farther away from Rory as she completely ignores him and rants about _Jess Mariano_.

He practically stops listening, watching the way her eyes are _glued_ to Jess, and feeling the way her heart isn't pounding in her chest like his is. Does she feel nothing for him anymore?

Never in Dean's life has he felt so _used_. At this point, he's more than aware that her feelings for Jess are so far from platonic.

"And if you don't like it, then just ignore me and pay attention to your boyfriend," Jess retorts, and for a moment, Dean can somehow easily see inside Jess, or at least he can see how much he likes Rory.

"Sorry, she can't," Dean blurts, jerking Rory's arm from around his neck, wanting to put distance between them. He can't _stand _it anymore. "I'm not her boyfriend anymore." For a second, the words bring such a soothing sensation to his heart. But just as fast as it came, a wave of unbelievable hurt crushes it.

"What?" Rory says flatly. She's still overtired. But he plans on waking her up, _fast_.

"You know, I tried to ignore this. I really did. But I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to be with me, Rory," he states plainly.

"Yes, I do," she answers as if it was a ridiculous assumption, but she doesn't look him in the eyes, which makes her lying more insulting to him.

"Oh, _please_. You've been into him since he got to town, and I've spent weeks, months, actually, trying to convince myself that it wasn't true that everything was fine between us. But now I know that I was an idiot. You're into him and he's into you, and Shane, who, by the way, should be listening to this, because it's so damn _obvious_." His voice is getting louder and louder, and he knows people around them are beginning to listen in, and he just doesn't care.

In fact, let them be witnesses to this event. Let them see how horribly Rory treats other people, how she pushes others to this limit.

"What's obvious? What did I do?" she asks, her voice cracking in hurt. But it honestly just disgusts him: her ignorance, her lack of ability to see how much she has been hurting him these past few months.

"Everyone can see, Rory. Everyone. And I'm tired. But I'm over it. So go ahead. Go. Be together. There's nothing standing in your way now, because _I'm out_," he finishes harshly, walking away and grabbing his jacket, feeling more like a man than he has in a long time. He set her in her place, he opened her eyes to what a total _bitch_ she was being.

He showed her.

But then a week later (actually, six days and about thirteen hours later) she climbs up to his window, trying to be cute and sweet. It makes him want to push her off his house; can't she just leave him alone? He's been dragged around enough by her.

But he can't refuse her, so he cautiously goes over to the window.

"Hey," she says, trying to be friendly, but he doesn't want to hear it.

"What are you doing?" he inquires, but not really caring about her response.

"I climbed a tree."

"Why." He doesn't get why she's smiling at him; it's killing him. Can't she see that? Or is she really that selfish?

"Well…I was afraid to ring the doorbell 'cause your mom would answer, and I assume she knows so I assume she hates me, and I wanted to talk to you, so –"

"She doesn't know," he says to get her to stop rambling because he's focusing too long on her lips and he _knows_ that she was just kissing that _prick_; he can tell.

"She doesn't?"

"I haven't really been in the mood to talk about it." _Just like I'm not in the mood to talk to you_, he adds angrily in his head.

"But you're going to have to tell her eventually. So, if she did answer the door and was nice to me then I would have known she was going to be hating me soon and…and that just would have been really hard, because I like your mom."

He looks away as she takes a breath because he cannot believe what's coming out of her _mouth_. And he hates that she's on the verge of tears as she's talking about this.

"I guess you're probably gonna tell your sister also so she's probably gonna hate me, too," she adds, and he _hates_ that she's turning this into a pity party for herself.

_Well that's just too fucking bad_. "Well too bad, Rory. Somebody doesn't like you, for once." _Wow, this feels so good_, he thinks as she watches her visibly retract. Calling her out is rewarding.

"I didn't mean –"

"What do you want?" he interrupts her, his brow furrowing and his upper lip curling a bit in frustration.

"Do you remember that girl Butterfly who lived in a tree for a year? I can officially attest that she was nuts."

He can't take it anymore. She's just so…_annoying_. How did he use to think this was cute? He reaches for the window and says, "I have to go."

"I want to say that I'm sorry," she blurts out, trying to get him to stop moving, which she obviously succeeds in.

"For what?" And she _better_ give him a straight answer.

"For treating you the way I did, for doing all the things you said I did. I am so, so sorry. It's all my fault. I don't know what's wrong with me. You were the most amazing boyfriend in the world. You made me so happy. You made me laugh, you made my mother like you, you were nice to my friends, you protected me, you even came with me to that stupid debutante ball," she rambles, her voice wavering. She looks so genuine, and he knows within his heart that she does feel guilty.

But right now, he hurts too damn much to really give a shit about her feelings.

"I don't need the list," he grits out, because he damn well knows what he did for her.

"I really did love you. Please believe that."

Past tense, huh? Well, he still loves her.

"You with _him_ now?" he asks, his jaw clenching. But he knows; she's already given it away without meaning to.

"I don't want to talk about him. I just came to tell you that I'm truly sorry that I hurt you and that I am going to miss you so much and I just hope that someday you won't hate me anymore.

He lets out a shaky breath. "I hope so, too." Yes, he still loves her, but he also hates her at the same time. He never knew how close the two emotions could be.

And then he shuts the window, watching with secret pleasure as her face crumbles a bit. He bets she was hoping for him to say that he doesn't hate her and that he just needs time to get over her. Yes, he does need time, time for the hate to dwindle.

But he knows that it won't take long for his hate to go away. She's Rory Gilmore, after all, and apparently everything revolves around her. At least, sadly enough, in his world she still does.

* * *

A/N: Despite Dean being a cheating loser in later episodes, I hope this made you feel a bit sorry for the poor bastard.

GO JETS!!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	28. I Don't Know Why

A/N: As Rory was leaving Chilton (with Paris still rambling) she had this blank expression on her face; what I wouldn't give to read her mind.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Words screaming in my head_

_Why did you leave?_

_And I can't stop dreaming_

_- Boys Like Girls_

I Don't Know Why

This is so wrong. This is _so_ wrong; Rory berates herself as she sits on a bus, heading for New York City.

She's skipping school. Never, in all her days of attending school, has she _ever_ missed school _voluntarily_. Yes, there was the occasional sickness that would keep her bedridden, but even then she would try and go to school anyway until Lorelai practically tied her to the bed.

This is a _big_ deal.

And she doesn't even _know_ how to get around the city! She always relied on Lorelai. Rory wishes she paid more attention during all those visits.

She knows the city is like a grid, and there are avenues and streets. But some of the avenues bend…and some avenues aren't _really_ avenues and they're not in numerical order…

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. This is doable. She can do it.

"Next and final stop: Port Authority."

Rory bites her bottom lip. This is all for _Jess Mariano_; and who is he anyway? He's certainly not her boyfriend. And everyone has been telling her that it's Jess' fault that her wrist is now in a cast.

But if he's such bad news, and all the people in her life are telling her so, why can't she seem to accept it?

_Nice young hoodlum in the back…I'm just surprised that you're hanging out with him, that's all…He just doesn't seem like the nicest kid…Someone who could get you hurt…But guys like this get into trouble…He's trying to weasel his way in…He's trouble…_

She closes her eyes and she pictures him on the bridge, everything around them silent except for the gentle lap of the lake. His eyes look forest green with the falling leaves as a backdrop of this peaceful moment. _Ernest only has lovely things to say about you._

No person who has such passion for literature can be bad. She'd seen it in his eyes; those stories are his world. He read more than she has, and she's so impressed, yet unsurprised, because he always seems to know more than her. And she kind of likes that.

Maybe she can be the student. In fact, she _wants_ to be; she wants to learn, be taught, led by the hand.

"Excuse me, do you think you could tell me how to get to Washington Square Park?"

* * *

A/N: So my workload has increased considerably since first semester, so I may be updating every 5 days as opposed to 3.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	29. When You Fall Apart

A/N: I think I'm twisting the lyrics a bit…but this is what came to mind when I heard the chorus. It's a bit more innocent than Chris Carrabba intended…but oh well!

Oh, this is between episode eight and nine of season three, by the way.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Life is always hard_

_For the belle of the boulevard_

- _Dashboard Confessional_

When You Fall Apart

Everyone knew Rory Gilmore was the Princess of Stars Hollow. It kind of baffles Jess (and creeps him out) how the town singled out one girl, putting her on a ridiculously high pedestal, believing her incapable of doing anything wrong.

What about the other hundreds of kids who live in Stars Hollow? Don't they feel…shafted? Annoyed? Disgusted?

Honestly, he's surprised the girl doesn't have an ego the size of the sun with all the praise she receives daily.

But despite her humility, she almost _needs_ the praise; she feels she has to live up to everyone's high expectations. Always the people pleaser, while he couldn't give a flying fuck about anyone. Except maybe her.

He wonders if that's part of the reason why she was attracted to him. She wishes she could be so carefree, not care about anyone's thoughts on her actions, and he was (still is) all that.

They're watching a movie in Luke's apartment (their first activity together as a couple), and at what could be considered to be a "tear-jerking" scene, she begins to cry. Outright sob, actually. And he has _no_ idea how to react to the sudden burst of emotions.

"…You've seen this movie before…" he says, feeling very uncomfortable.

She sniffles. "S-Sorry. It's not really the movie. It's just…" She wipes her cheeks, but tears continue to pour down her face. "I sent out my applications today. And I'm just…I'm _so_ scared. What if I don't get accepted into any colleges? I'll disappoint everyone. The town. My grandparents. Especially my mom."

In the diner earlier, he had heard that she sent out her application to Harvard. Lorelai was so excited that she ignored her coffee and rambled, as if she already had more than her normal coffee intake. Everyone else in the diner wished Rory luck, expressing his or her confidences in her acceptance into Harvard.

And Rory just sat there; accepting well wishes and compliments quietly, a forced smile on her face. Only Jess noticed that Rory left the diner hastier than normal, claiming that she needs to get to her daily bus to Hartford.

"Don't think like that," is all that Jess can say. He can't really understand this fear and nervousness Rory is going through, even though he took note of it the moment Lorelai exclaimed with pride that her applications were sent. But then again, he doesn't get the appeal of going to school. But he knows she loves it, and he wants her to get into Harvard.

Honestly, isn't it a little too soon in their relationship for the _serious_ stuff?

"I just...I wish I were as confident about this as everyone else," she whispers.

"If you were, you wouldn't be you," he merely states.

She sniffles again, hesitantly shifting closer so her face is hidden in the crook of his neck. Without much thought, Jess pulls her legs over his and holds her close to him. Her breath hitches in her throat and fresh tears roll down her cheeks, making the collar of his shirt and his neck wet. Huh, so he is capable of _comforting_.

He looks up at the ceiling as she cried; he feels like this is the beginning of something completely new for both of them. The townspeople have never, and will never see Rory this insecure, for they don't know all the facets of her. And her mom, while she's her best friend, sees only one possible future for her daughter. And there's no way in _hell_ he would do this for anyone else.

"You said applications. Plural," Jess says with his lips by the crown of her head.

"My mom doesn't know I applied to other schools," she admits in a quiet whisper.

That floors him. Why wouldn't she tell her mother? He thought they told each other everything, but apparently that's not the case. Is Rory Gilmore actually becoming her own individual, making decisions that won't make her mother necessarily happy?

But he supposes that she's already been becoming that person, her dating him is definitely proof of that.

"It's smart. You can't just have one option," he says.

"Yeah." She begins to pull away, but she still sits on his lap, her arms around his neck.

"You did the right thing." He really wishes her tears would disappear from her face; they're making him uncomfortable.

"My mom won't see it that way." Rory wipes her face completely dry, almost as if reading his mind.

"Well she's not really a rational person. In fact, some, including myself, would label her as a basket case."

Rory gives him a look.

"But of course she can't think rationally about this because this is her dream as well as yours," he adds.

"I know…and that's just it! It's bad enough that I have to worry about her feelings about this as much as mine!"

"Rory…don't worry about your mom. She's not going to college with you. This is _your_ future. While your mom wants to help you out…some twisted, feministic version of _Father Knows Best_…it's about you." _Which is so incomprehensible to Lorelai, being so selfish and all_, he adds in his mind; he doesn't think Rory would appreciate that comment.

"When she finds out she's going to be…_so_ upset."

"Yeah. But she'll realize that it's ultimately your decision."

She leans forward to rest her forehead against his. "Thanks. Sorry. This is _not_ what I wanted our first…_date_ to be like."

"It's fine," he says, lowering one of his hands from her waist to her thigh.

She grins. "Of course. It got us here, right?"

"Dirty," they both say at the same time, making her laugh, and him chuckle.

Then she cups his face in her hands and kisses him deeply, a proper, less awkward thanks, adding what she couldn't say out loud: _thanks for holding me together, thanks for calming my insecurities, thanks for being a voice of reason._

And he kisses her back, saying without speaking that he understands that her life isn't _completely_ like a Disney movie, full of sunshine and daisies. That life can be hard with everyone riding on your back to be perfect.

As she lets him slip his tongue into her mouth, she knows that he'll never do that. His support is good, not stifling, and she appreciates it more than words could ever express.

So she pulls him down so she's on top of him, because she wants to express her sentiments physically.

* * *

A/N: Er, I hope this was alright...I'm much better/more comfortable writing about their unhappiness/angst. Wow...that sounds so mean...I swear I like them together!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	30. Love To My Own Devices

A/N: Do I make your heart beat like an 808 drum? This song cannot be any catchier.

Standard disclaimers apply

* * *

_I don't care what people say_

_The rush is worth the price I pay_

_- Ke$ha_

Love To My Own Devices

For so long, Rory has been used to being part of Rory And Dean. And now that it's all changed, and she's now part of this new, scary, _thrilling_ Rory And Jess, she's self-conscious, which is why she doesn't let him kiss her in public because it looks bad.

"It's too early for kissing like that," sounds so stupid, but it's the only thing that somewhat touches the heart of the problem. It looks as if they've been together for so long, since Dean _never_ kissed her like that in public.

So at first, she _does_ care about what people say, how they look at them. It feels like all eyes are on her, like she and Jess are on center stage with a spotlight on them. She almost wants to keep Jess from making him look bad to the town. See? He's good about public displays of affection like Dean. He's not after _one thing_.

But she knows he's not (just) after _that_. Of course not. But Stars Hollow doesn't see that, which she finds to be saddening. If _only_ they looked deeper, they could see Jess for the interesting, complex person that he is.

But despite her insecurities, she can't deny the smoldering warmth she feels when he says that he wants to flaunt it, them, their relationship.

And after hearing multiple times about the lack of emotion in their awkward "pecking" kiss in the diner, she realizes that it's not _them_, this holding back. They're Jess and Rory, and what's between them is not calm; it's crazy, turbulent, and all these other things that she doesn't know of yet, but she can't wait to put a name to later.

So when she can catch him alone, with his rambling about trashcans, she kisses him properly, because _who gives a crap_ about the town and everyone in it. She's (more than) happy to be in this relationship with Jess, and she would also like to flaunt it, because this is something that isn't seen (or felt) often.

* * *

A/N: I hoped you liked it...I keep being slammed with work so I haven't had much time to delve into longer oneshots.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	31. Count To Ten, Take It In

A/N: Hm...why am I doing so many Taylor Swift songs?

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday_

_But I realized some bigger dreams of mine_

_- Taylor Swift_

Count To Ten, Take It In

As soon as the Gilmore girls got back home from the disastrous Dance Marathon, they both went to bed, Rory silently promising that she would tell Lorelai everything after some sleep. But Lorelai could hear Rory crying for hours before she finally went to sleep.

They both woke up at around four in the afternoon, and they ordered a lot of food to make up for missing last night's dinner (Mrs. Kim's sandwiches were the most disgusting things Lorelai had ever eaten), and today's breakfast and lunch.

When the food came, after they opened all the containers, Lorelai finally asks, "What happened, babe?"

Rory doesn't look up from her lap. "Dean and I broke up. He broke up with me."

Lorelai's jaw drops. She thought that _maybe_ they got into a fight (since Dean wasn't in the gym when she got back) but their breaking up? Not possible. How could _that_ have happened? She was relying on Dean to hang in there, to stay with Rory because Lorelai knew Rory's affections were diverted. So that must mean…

"How did it happen?" Lorelai inquires softly, already knowing the answer, the cause, the _dark haired, dark eyed _problem.

Rory sniffles and takes a shaky breath. "Jess and I were just arguing. We've been doing it a lot lately. I was overtired and he was being annoying. I don't know. I was just jealous of Shane kissing Jess," she admits in shame.

"Shane?"

"That blonde girl he was seeing."

Oh, right. The girl Lorelai never wanted her daughter to be like (and _oh God_ she used the _past tense_). "Gotcha. Continue."

Rory's jaw trembles a bit. "And Dean got fed up. Can't blame him, of course. I was terrible."

"Wait…he broke up with you _on the dance floor_? In front of everyone?" Lorelai asks, incredulous.

Rory nods. "Yeah. It was embarrassing. But I deserved it. He said all this stuff about how I've liked Jess since he got to town and how Jess likes me too. That he won't stand in the way of us anymore."

"Poor Dean," Lorelai whispers.

"I'm an awful person," Rory laments, putting her face in her hands.

Lorelai sighs, not sure what to say. She wants to comfort her daughter, but at the same time, she wants to berate her for pushing away the perfect guy, and for wanting the wrong one. Rory looks up and sees the conflicted expression on Lorelai's face. Wiping her face dry, Rory catches her mother's glance and takes a deep breath.

"I know you love Dean, Mom. I know you think he's the perfect boyfriend. And I agree. He was good…_so _good to me. And for so long I could've sworn to you that we would spend forever together. But…"

"Then _Jess_ came along," Lorelai couldn't help but interject with scorn.

"Then I realized that I wanted to experience _more_," Rory continues, as if her mom never interjected. "While I loved Dean, he wasn't open to world. He doesn't share the same dreams as I do. We don't have too many things in common, which made it hard for us connect. I wanted to discuss books and movies with him, gateways to the world outside of Stars Hollow, and we couldn't, not really."

"People in relationships don't have to have a million things in common, Rory."

"I know that. But not _loving_ reading and pop culture and movies isn't just a hobby or something you can just have in common with me, Mom. I _breathe_ all that, _especially_ literature. Those characters on the pages are just as real to me as childhood friends. Dean didn't…_doesn't_ get that. He appreciated it, of course, but after a while…it isn't enough."

Lorelai can't say anything; she doesn't want to think about Jess helping her experience _more_. But against her will, she begins to see how Rory grew from the wide-eyed fifteen-turning-on-sixteen girl who had never been kissed, to the seventeen-year-old young woman who doesn't want to be treated like a sheltered princess.

"Dean is going to be here, Mom. Always. He's comfortable and content. And as much as I love Stars Hollow…I want to leave. Don't you want something big for me?" Rory adds softly.

"Of course I do, you know that, honey. But…"

"You trust me, right?" Rory interrupts her.

"Yes."

"Then trust me when I say this: there is more to Jess than he lets on. If he were such a bad person all the time, would I have feelings for him?" Rory inquires unabashedly.

"So you are going to start dating Jess."

"Yeah. We're…together."

A mother's worst nightmare. Lorelai tried to fight this, prevent it, she really did. But she can't protect her daughter from everything, right?

Besides, Lorelai can't deny that there's a meeting of the minds when it comes to Jess and Rory. There's something between them that will never go away, not even after the inevitable break up (Lorelai can just see it now…) and the thought of Jess being some sort of a constant in her daughter's life scares her.

But she tries to smile at Rory, knowing that all she can do is support her, and hold her tight if her choice ends up breaking her heart into pieces.

* * *

A/N: I hope this was decent enough...

Please review!

MissGoalie


	32. You Have Stolen My…

A/N: I'm not going to lie, this is a bit fluffy, and I apologize in advance.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Watch you spin around in your highest heels,_

_You are the best one of the best ones_

_We all look like we feel_

_- Dashboard Confessional_

You Have Stolen My…

Jess doesn't know what it is about tonight, but he can't take his eyes off her as she bursts into the diner, her mom in toe, complaining of hunger. They just came back from a Friday Night Dinner, since they're all dressed in skirts and high heels.

Rory wobbles a bit in her shoes, practically demanding coffee. He puts his book down and goes over to the Gilmore girls, coffee pot in hand.

"Good boy," Lorelai says as she takes a seat.

"Woof," Jess retorts dryly, pouring into Rory's mug first.

"Aw, now you're resorting to animal noises as a form a communication?"

Jess looks up and glares at Lorelai.

"Mom, stop. I'm sorry about her. I wish I could control her," Rory says, her hand touching Jess' forearm.

Jess smirks a bit. "Don't we all." Lorelai glares at Jess in response, but he doesn't pay attention as he looks at Rory. "You look nice."

She blushes. "Thanks. New skirt. And shoes. I hate the shoes."

"Why?"

"Because I can't walk in them. They're almost three inches. But _Mom_ just _had_ to force me to wear these."

"You look hot!" Lorelai states, guzzling down her coffee.

"Grandma was horrified."

Lorelai's grin turns mischievous. "I know."

Rory rolls her eyes. "You're impossible."

Luke comes out of the kitchen hold two plates with burgers and fries.

"Hey! Who said that we wanted that!" Lorelai pouts.

"Because I know what you want to eat after a failed Friday Night Dinner," Luke states, placing the burgers in front of them.

Rory plows through her meal, and Jess is slightly disturbed; he'll never get used to the way she eats. So he pulls out his book from his back pocket and reads at the table next to hers.

"Whoa, kiddo, I never thought I would say this, but slow down?" Lorelai says.

Rory puts down her half-eaten burger and swallows. "Sorry. I thought Jess and I could hang out a bit tonight."

Jess smiles a little into his book, and Lorelai catches it in the corner of her eye.

"Oh. Okay, sure. But I have you tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes." Rory stands up and walks over to Jess, touching him on the shoulder.

He shuts his book and turns to look at her. "Ready?"

"Yep! Let's go."

He grabs his jacket on the way out the door, ignoring Luke calling after him to help close up the diner.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Rory suddenly gets giddy, squealing and grinning so broadly that he can't see the blue of her eyes.

"Do I need to commit you?"

"Can't you _smell_ it?" she whispers in a conspired tone, ignoring his question. She loops her arm through his as she guides him past the gazebo. He disentangles their arms so he can pull her closer to him by her waist.

"Smell what?"

"_Winter._ Snow is coming soon."

His brow furrows as he tries and smell the air. He kind of understands what she means – winter air does smell different. But he'll never actually confirm this, so he just shakes his head.

She nudges him. "Come on, I know you can smell it."

He only sighs, his breath noticeable in the air, making it look like he's exhaling cigarette smoke. Speaking of, he hasn't had a cigarette in weeks, and he strangely hasn't craved one since…

"What are we doing, exactly?"

"We're enjoying the weather."

Jess doesn't bother pointing out that it's thirty degrees out. Besides, he supposes he can grow to like this weather, especially if it means Rory will be pressing against him more often.

She stumbles a bit, and Jess instinctively uses his free arm to hold her steady. Since when are his instincts anything other than self defense?

"Sorry. Dumb shoes."

"They're okay. Except if you go any higher I won't hang out with you."

In those heels, Rory and Jess are the same height, which he's not a big fan of; it's bad enough he's shorter than a lot of guys, he doesn't need his girlfriend to be taller than him too.

She laughs a little. "Deal. They're killing me anyway; I would never wear these again. But I feel like I should be on a catwalk."

"What?"

She moves out of his grasp and begins strutting, purposely swaying her hips, and Jess doesn't complain. But then she stumbles again, making Jess laugh.

"Smooth," he says.

She spins around, her hair whipping around as she gives him a sheepish smile.

_Whoa_. His heart stops in his chest and he can't help but wonder what the hell she's doing to him; he isn't supposed to be feeling like this.

"How long do you have?" he asks after he finally finds his voice. Since when does she make him speechless? Geez, this is all just a big cliché.

"Probably until twelve."

He catches up with her and wraps an around her waist. He can live with a little cliché, as long as Rory is it.

* * *

A/N: I know it makes you want to vomit...I'm sorry again!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	33. I Take It Back

A/N: 111-word count!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Say what you wanna say_

_It's not gonna change anything_

_- Hit The Lights_

I Take It Back

"What do you have to say to me?" she demands, but when it comes down to it, she doesn't really give a damn about what he has to say; nothing can take away, _excuse_ him for what he did to her.

She watches the emotions change and flicker on his face, and she suddenly realizes that he's never been like this before; something's happening to him. She can hear his unsteady breathing, and she steels herself further; there's no way she's going to let him in.

In fact, she should just tell him to stick his words right up –

"I love you."

Her breath hitches in her throat. _This changes everything_.

* * *

A/N: So short, but I was really inspired when I listened to this song this afternoon.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	34. You Look So Good In Blue

A/N: This kind of relates to "Wasted Time On You," but just because of the whole idea that Jess did kind of (definitely) waited for her that summer.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_And I keep my jealousy close,_

'_Cause it's all mine_

_And if you say this makes you happy,_

_Then I'm not the only one lying_

_- Fall Out Boy_

You Look So Good In Blue

Jess is in Doose's (during Dean's absence, of course) when he sees Rory walking down the isle he's in.

"Doing a little shopping?" he inquires before internally berating himself. Really, Mariano, after two months of not talking, _this_ is what you decide to say?

She looks pretty tonight; that shade of blue brings out her eyes too well.

"Yes," she retorts shortly, trying to walk past before he sets the can he was reading back on the shelf. Did she really mean to sound harsh?

"Excuse me," she says, not looking at him, still keeping the attitude.

"Why the cold shoulder?"

"No cold shoulder. I just have perishables here."

"Oh yeah. You want to get home before that Beefaroni goes bad," he says sarcastically.

She raises her eyebrows in response. "My mom's waiting for me." And she tries to breeze past him.

But he quickly trails after her, not quite willing to give up. "How was Washington?"

"Fine."

"Do anything interesting?"

"Nope."

"Okay."

There's a beat of silence before she practically demands, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Anything interesting happen? This summer, I mean."

Besides checking the mail everyday for a letter for you? Or sitting in the uncomfortable chair by the phone even when I didn't have to? "Nope."

"_Really_," she says, as if she's knows to the contrary.

"Really."

"So _nothing_ happened this summer at _all_?"

_Oh_, does she want to know about _Shane_? Well, there's no way in _hell_ he's going make this easy for her, so he thinks of something to say that he knows will frustrate her. "It was hot. Two weeks ago there was a run on snow cones. Machine broke; people went crazy. Taylor tried calling the National Guard but –"

She had started walking away from him when he went in depth on snow cones, but she turns around to say, "I'm not talking about snow cones."

"What are you talking about, then?" Come on, Gilmore; just _spit it out_.

"Nothing."

He nods, feeling like this conversation, on a pain scale, is about equivalent to pulling out teeth. She sighs in frustration, knowing this isn't going anywhere either.

"Her name's Shane," he admits, side glancing to see Rory's reaction.

"As in 'come back?'" she replies with a disgusted look on her face, and that kind of pisses him off. Alright, Shane isn't the most intelligent person, nor the most useful, but it's not like she had a choice in her name. Clearly her parents weren't into movies. Or were just disappointed that they got a girl and not a boy.

Maybe he's just defensive about this because he wished Liz could've picked a better name for himself.

"Yep."

"Well great. That's great. Really, it's great," she says, trying to be sarcastic, but it doesn't really work for her.

"So I've heard."

"Well it is."

"Are you upset about something?"

With wide eyes, she replies, "No," but he knows that's a lie. Whenever she does that with her eyes, it means she's hiding something.

"I mean, me and Shane…"

"What about you and Shane?" she tries to sound offhand, but he knows this is the problem.

"I don't know. It didn't exactly bring a _smile_ to your face."

"Well I'm still freaked out about the snow cone machine."

"Okay."

"I could care less about you and Shane."

Which means she does care a lot about it already. "Good."

"It just surprised me, that's all," she confesses without really thinking about the consequences.

"Why?" he asks, confused about this whole situation. Why is she surprised?

"Because."

"Because why?" _Don't try and play this game_, Jess thinks, eyes narrowed a bit.

"Because of what happened at Sookie's wedding."

And there it is. It really happened, and they are acknowledging it. "Ah."

"So me coming back here and just seeing you with Shane just kind of _threw_ me for a sec."

While Jess may really like Rory, he's _really_ pissed off at the way she's acting. _Why_ is she giving _him_ attitude? It's not like he was _cheating_ on her because they were never dating to begin with! Technically, _she's_ the cheater; she was, and still is, going out with Dean.

And you know what, the sad thing is, Jess did wait. For seven weeks. How fucked up is that? He's more like Dean that he ever thought possible.

"I'm sorry. Did I hear from you at all this summer?" he starts in a low voice. "Did I just miss the thousands of phone calls you made to me? Or did the postman lose all those letters you wrote to me?" He knows none of these things are true because he was waiting most of the time for those calls. And as for the letters: come on. This isn't a romantic novel; stuff like that doesn't happen.

"You kiss me, you tell me not to say anything. Very flattering, by the way. You go off to Washington. Then _nothing_." He spits the last word out because he hasn't quite gotten over those bitter feelings yet. "Then you come back here, all put out because I didn't just sit around and wait for you like _Dean_ would've done?" He just throws that in there because he wants to insist that he's not pathetic. "And, _yeah_, what about Dean? Are you still with him? Cuz last time I checked, you were. I haven't heard anything to the contrary. Plus the two of you walking around the other day like some damn Andy Hardy movie. Seemed to me like you're still pretty together. I half expected you to break into a barn and put on a show."

He's _never_ ranted like that to _anyone_. But then again, he never really cared enough to get this pissed off about something.

"When did you see me with Dean?"

"At that stupid summer insanity plea the town put on," he answers dismissively, because that's not the _point_.

"Oh, I'm surprised you could see anything with Shane's head plastered to your face." Does Jess detect some bitterness there? Does _Rory_ want to be the one whose face is plastered to Jess'?

"You didn't answer me," he says with a hint of seriousness. He kind of wants her to be that girl (and so much more).

"About what?"

"Did you call me at all."

"No."

"Did you send me a letter." He kind of hopes she'll say yes and that his life is really like a novel.

"No."

"Postcard?"

"No."

"Smoke signal."

"Stop."

"A _nice_ fruit basket."

"Enough."

"Are you still with Dean?"

She hesitates, and that angers him.

"Come on, Rory: yes or no? Are you still with Dean?"

"Yes, I'm still with Dean. _Yes_."

"Glad to hear it."

"Glad to tell you."

"See you around."

"Whatever."

"Right back at you."

He's so disgusted and fed up with her, but he still wants her, and this combination of emotions pisses him off. He doesn't want to feel _anything _for her. Right then he wanted to strangle her, watch her skin change hues from peach to the color of her pretty shirt, force her to open her eyes at her own discontent. But at the same time, he wanted to throw her up against the shelves of produce and violate her mouth, eliciting reactions he _knows_ Dean could never get out of her.

He'll just stay away from her. At least for now. Clearly she's upset with his hooking up with Shane, so he'll continue to do that, at least until Rory will _finally_ realize…

* * *

A/N: Every time I see this episode, I always think of how pretty Rory looks in the market...and I remembered the line from a Fall Out Boy song that would strangely work (the title of this piece), so that's how this came to be.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	35. We're Diving In

A/N: Enjoy!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I can't breathe_

_My body's shaking_

_You got a way_

_With the way you take me_

'_Cause you break me down_

_You know you break me down_

- _All Time Low_

We're Diving In

Jess Mariano has hooked up with plenty of girls in his life, but in this moment, standing at _Gypsy's_ with Rory not even a foot away, he feels nervous. The fingers holding a cigarette are trembling as he stares into her eyes, which are brighter than he's ever seen them. Did he do that?

"So, tell me, what's your decision about smoking that depending on?"

"On what's gonna happen."

"When?"

"Now."

_Finally_.

It's a strange mixture of relief, anxiety, vulnerability, and another feeling that's so foreign to him that he feels beside himself. He doesn't know if he reaches out or gestures for her to come closer, but she does. And he's so glad that her breathing is unsteady too.

When their lips meet, he feels something shift in him; there's no turning back. But he's embracing this, like the way he's embracing her and she, him.

Long after she walks away, his hands are still shaking, and he's reminded of that scene in _Say Anything…_ where Skyde and Cusack just had sex, and he's shaking, and he just says it's because he's happy.

Jess Mariano finally understands now.

* * *

A/N: Hah, if you read my other collection of oneshots for _Rurouni Kenshin_, then you would've noticed the second reference to _Say Anything…_ I didn't plan that since I started this a few weeks ago, and I just found it.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	36. The Story's Far From Finished

A/N: This song is wicked catchy.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I never thought that I could walk away_

_Every second, I'm regretting that I didn't stay_

_How can I just keep on driving_

_When I left my heart with you?_

_- Boys Like Girls_

The Story's Far From Finished

He's numb; what he just did five minutes ago hasn't really sunken in yet. The only thing he's sure of is that he has to get the _fuck_ out of there.

So he's driving, his speed steadily increasing the farther he goes, just trying to keep his mind blank. _Almost there_, he allows himself to calculate, _finally_ seeing the signs for New York City.

But then suddenly, he can't stop thinking; it's all coming back to him. The running, the stumbling over words, _can we sit down_?

_What do you have to say to me?_

I love you.

His eyes widen so much that his eyes immediately dry up, and _something_ jumps to his throat and _he can't breathe_.

He roughly pulls to the side of the highway and parks his car, trying to breathe. _What has he done?_

His chest feels empty, as if he actually left his heart with her. How absurd. But he can't think about that right now; he needs oxygen in his body or else he's going to black out.

"_Damn it_!" he yells before taking ragged breaths of air. He lies back, trying to regulate his pulse and breathing. This is so _insane_, he just said _three little words_ to her, and suddenly he feels like he's going to die.

But they're not just _three little words_ to him. They should be; he's read them millions of times and he's heard them in movies and songs…they just shouldn't mean anything to him. But he hasn't spoken those three words in that consecutive order in a long time (too long).

Those words, those stupid, insignificant words when separated, and yet cause such a colorful spectrum of emotions when brought together, actually have weight to them when given, and it seems in Jess' case, the weight is his heart.

So by saying them to her, by admitting his connection to that phrase, he had inadvertently gave her the one thing he buried so deep within himself that sometimes he forgot he even had it.

How could he have done such a thing?

He didn't _know_, he swears he didn't, he thinks to himself desperately. Of course he didn't plan on saying that to her! It just…happened. There's actually nothing romantic about it.

But it's done, can't change what happened. He tries to play it off as nothing, but it's scaring the crap out of him that she's now officially in full possession of his heart. The scariest part about it is that he's afraid that she might not even _know_ that she has it.

Getting back on the highway, he tries to convince himself that she'll make the next move, at least to let him know, to _assure_ him that she gets it. Because he knows that those three words shared between them are certainly not the last; there's so much more to be said, which comforts him, because he really doesn't want to have the last say.

* * *

A/N: It seems I'm a bit obsessed with the Love Confession Scene. I think I've gone about it every angle possible: To Be Expected is Jess' POV before/during/kind of after, "And All At Once I Realize…" is Rory's POV during/after, "I Take It Back" is Rory's POV before…and this update is Jess' POV after. Am I missing anything? No? Then I think I can officially put this scene to rest.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	37. Always Be

A/N: This song has been on repeat lately.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I am the black in the book,_

_The letters on the pages that you memorize_

_- Owl City_

Always Be

She haunts him all the time. He doesn't want to carry around his guilt, frustration, _love_ around with him, but he's stuck with it.

He's doomed to find her in every book he ever reads. For a while, he toyed with the idea of selling all his books, just to be rid of her. But no one would want his torn, worn paperbacks; many of them are so full of his messy margin notes that he has two copies of certain books. They're like journals, recording unspoken emotions and secret thoughts throughout his life.

He supposes that if he picked apart all his books and organized every word, line, paragraph, he could map out his life; an autobiography of sorts.

Besides, sometimes he's comforted by her essence. He's reminded of warmth, of open-mindedness…things he never really experienced growing up. And it keeps him sane sometimes.

They're rare moments, but it's enough for him to keep his books.

Not only that, he's loved books long before Rory came into his life, and his reliance on them goes deeper than his love for a girl he met three years ago; believe it or not, it'll take a hell of a lot more than Rory Gilmore to get him to stop reading.

So despite the obnoxious pangs he gets in his chest every once in a while, he still carries a book in his back pocket, a way of keeping her with him. And he still underlines words and lines and paragraphs that remind him of her, unwittingly memorizing them so maybe one day…

And as he's writing his own book, he thinks of her throughout, sowing some of her spirit inside; this is his wordless dedication to her.

* * *

A/N: A little strange…but then again Adam Young is a strange cookie…so he probably messed with my mind a bit.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	38. Blue Eyes

A/N: This and the next are going to be somewhat related.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Cause Blue Eyes_

_You are all that I need_

_Cause Blue Eyes_

_You're the sweet to my mean_

_- Cary Brothers_

Blue Eyes

It's gotten worse, this whole "not wanting to be bothered by anybody" attitude he carries with him always. Stars Hollow triggered it, made it unbearable, and now Jess understands how Luke is the way he is.

Books are more alluring than ever, one is always on his person, almost like that pocketknife he used to carry in the city; it's protection. His lack of patience for the townies and the general moronic mayhem that occurs on a daily basis makes him hostile, like a ticking bomb that's _waiting_ to explode.

However, Rory is doing a good job delaying it. But that's all she's doing: stalling the inevitable; he can't be here forever. He gives her secret smiles because he respects (and appreciates?) her effort.

Her eyes are like glass, so easily seen through. All her emotions are on display for him to easily read and pick apart. He already knows her like one of his well-worn paperbacks, and sometimes he wonders if she's aware of this.

Despite knowing her all too well, he's never bored; that shine she gets in her eyes when he gives her a new book, that particular smile that she only gives to him after not seeing each other for too long, the way she bites her bottom lip while she's writing her pro-con lists…

Oh, _geez_, that's sappy, isn't it? Some might say that once you start admiring the little things, that's when you know that you're…

But Jess doesn't want to think too deeply about it; he'll stick with getting lost with her in the now, because he knows in the future, he's going to rely on these moments with the bright, talkative, blue-eyed girl.

* * *

A/N: Okay, there's actually a very good reason why this update is so late: I don't know if any of you live in, or near the Northeast, but we were hit with a MASSIVE storm, and my town was practically destroyed by it - trees taking down phone polls, the entire town without power for days, etc. So I've been without power since Saturday night. Thankfully, I have a generator so I had light and heat during the past four days, but I had no cable and I couldn't go on the internet. But now I have it, and I can get back to posting for you lovely people :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	39. Green Eyes

A/N: Sort of related to the previous oneshot.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_That green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you_

_And how could anybody deny you_

_That green eyes, you're the one that I wanted to find_

_And anyone who tried to deny you must be out of their mind_

_- Coldplay_

Green Eyes

He's dangerous. He's withdrawn. He's subtle. He's sharp. He's so many things that Stars Hollow could never provide; he's a window to what's outside, beyond the town.

Eyes are windows to the soul, so the saying goes.

Once upon a time Rory thought his eyes were just plain, boring brown when they first met in her room that unusually warm fall night. But then she noticed after _well, what is much_, when he shook her with his nonchalance that his eyes delved into her without any effort.

He can read her already.

Next time she gets to look into his eyes without inhibition is on the (their) bridge. Her disgusting, poorly made lunch basket acts as a barrier between their bodies, but their minds meet for the first time (they never got to untangle afterwards). The cold, spring sun creates an offbeat halo, brightening his eyes to revealing their true complexity. Like a dark, rich wood: full of secrets, depth, danger.

There it is again, the danger. Is it that appealing?

She begins to get caught up in the hidden green hues.

_I just…wanted to._

She can never explain why she kissed him then. Her thoughts weren't coherent, and whenever she looks back on that moment, it's all fuzzy.

Until the exact moment when her lips touches his.

Finally, _finally_ that barrier that started off as a basket and continued to exist in the form of Dean is temporarily removed as they clash so roughly and beautifully.

If that's not perfection, she doesn't know what is.

She doesn't know how she went so long denying him.

She wants to tell him this; he should know how incredible he really is, but they're not really good at talking about their feelings. The attraction, lust, respect, and other emotions they feel for each other goes without saying; they could never word anything properly without the risk of reciting a passage from a book.

They're trying to make this, them as original as possible, but there's a reason why they have passions for literature.

All she can hope for is when he's reading a book, he'll come across a passage about love, and he'll think of her. And she'll bring a book to their date, and she'd have underlined a passage that reminds her of him (and he'll know this is a big deal because she never _ever_ writes in her books (it's just for him)).

That's enough.

* * *

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing in Rory's POV for this…probably because its her ranting about how awesome Jess is :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	40. You Better Let Somebody Love You

A/N: A lot of people have been telling me to write out this scene, and I've been working on it for a while now…so this is for you guys!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home_

_And freedom, oh freedom, well, that's just some people talkin'_

_Your prison is walking through this world all alone_

_- The Eagles_

You Better Let Somebody Love You

Luke loudly sighs, his arms crossed as he stands over Jess, who can't help but feel like he's been thrown back a year. It's almost nostalgic.

"Tonight I got into a fight at a strip club with my nephew. A fight."

Jess looks down at his hands. He wasn't going to actually _fight_ TJ. Yeah, TJ slapped Jess' book out of his hands and Jess stood up, but he wasn't going to throw a punch; he was perhaps going to threaten him. But then everyone just made _assumptions_ that Jess was going to throw a punch. Will this ever stop?

"I haven't been in a fight since sixth grade. Vince Williams called me a doody head. I took it very personally. But you know what, tonight was good. Tonight, something happened to me and I…achieved this great sense of _calm_."

Oh my god. _What_? No. _He couldn't have_, Jess thinks with shock.

"No more anger, no more frustration. Live and let live. You are who you are. I cannot change that and I'm gonna stop trying," Luke continues, a smug look on his face.

_Great, yet another person to give up on me,_ Jess thinks with a bit of bitterness. But then again, Luke is right; he'll never be able to change Jess. And if that's the case…why does it still hurt to hear that he's going to stop trying?

"Wish I'd felt this earlier. I wouldn't have dragged you down here. I apologize for that. But I mean if you really hate your mother that much…then you shouldn't be here. You shouldn't…you shouldn't walk her down the isle; you shouldn't go to her wedding."

Jess doesn't even care about this lack of knowledge on Luke's part anymore. He's come to terms with the fact that no one will ever understand his relationship with his mother. Liz, and everything she has ever done, fucked him up. But despite this, he was always there to clean her up and pick up the pieces.

"I don't hate my mother," Jess admits in a low voice.

"You don't?" Luke sounds shocked, as expected. "Well then, I don't get it. Why weren't you coming? Because of me? You hate me that much?" Luke pulls down a chair and takes a seat beside Jess.

"I don't hate you." Jess sighs. "I came here because of you."

"Stop that," Luke says in disbelief.

"You said that it was important to you, remember?" Jess retorts.

"I remember, I didn't think you were listening."

"Oh, I was listening."

Rory pops into Jess' mind; she knew that he was always listening.

"Okay, so you don't hate your mom, you don't hate me, so…why weren't you coming?"

Jess sighs and purses his lips.

"_No_. Rory_, still_? That's ancient history; you haven't seen her in a year."

It's not ancient history; at least not to him. "Ah, I saw her when I was here a few months ago."

"I didn't know that. So, what happened?"

"Nothing. I…I told her…uh…"

Nobody knows of this, _no one_. It was a moment between Jess and Rory. And if he admits it now…then it actually happened.

"What?" Luke probes.

Jess lowers his hand to the table, hoping Luke won't notice the slight trembling. "I told her I loved her."

Luke's eyes grow wide. "_Wow_." He starts to laugh in relief, and Jess wonders why. Is it because he finally has confirmation that Jess has the ability to love like a normal person? "What'd she say?"

"Nothing."

"What you just said it and…walked away?" Luke asks, as if expecting to be shot down.

"No…I got in my car and left."

"You just dropped the bomb and ran?" Luke exclaims.

"I drove," Jess parries weakly.

"You didn't want to stick around and see what she said?"

"No. And obviously, she had nothing to say."

"How do you know?"

"She could've contacted me anytime in the last three months but she didn't."

"What're you talking about – you change your phone number weekly."

"Ah, the ball was in her court."

"Aw, _Jess_ come on you did this completely _wrong_. I mean…open two-way communication is the foundation of love and you cut that off. I had this friend, let's call him Phillip, who thought expressing intimacy was a favor to his partner. But expressions of intimacy should be given freely and frequently. He loved Judy, but he used his love as a bargaining tool."

"Who the hell is Judy?" Jess is rather confused by this analogy. Whenever Luke goes on rants, Jess tends to get lost.

"Phillip's wife, we call her Judy."

"I wasn't bargaining."

"You were bargaining. You had expectations out of line with what you deserved. You don't nurture."

And _how_ is he supposed to _nurture_ someone when he himself had never been nurtured in his life? "Where are you getting this _junk_?"

"Life. I've lived."

"What, in a Bette Midler movie?"

"I'm just trying to help you out."

"Oh please, you are the most dysfunctional person that I know." _Besides me_, Jess finishes in his mind.

"Not anymore."

"Your marriage to Nicole? Nothing but _weird_."

"I'm better now."

In three months? Sure. "Yeah, right. Right. Oh, man, we're just a couple of losers," Jess admits quietly.

"Well, things change, my friend."

"Oh yeah?" Jess says half sarcastically, half seriously.

"Stay tuned."

Then Luke stands up and heads over to the curtain to go upstairs. But before he pulls back the curtain, he turns back to face Jess.

"You really told her you loved her?" Luke inquires, apparently still in disbelief.

Jess drops his folded hands that were supporting his chin and nods.

"Huh," Luke merely says before going up.

Jess smiles in amusement. _Way to take my line_, he thinks, bringing a hand to mouth, still grinning.

* * *

A/N: I hope this was okay...

Please review!

MissGoalie


	41. It's Just Not Me To Wear It On My Sleeve

A/N: 300-word count!

Dedicated to **silverhelix428** because she's a JEW fan :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_All I can say _

_I shouldn't say_

_Can we take a ride?_

_Get out of this place_

_While we still have time_

_- Jimmy Eat World_

It's Just Not Me To Wear It On My Sleeve

Jess feels like he's going to detonate, but _something_ is holding him back, from telling her everything. Somehow he's afraid that if he reveals to her about all the drama about his inability to take her to the prom and his failing of senior year, then he'll admit everything else.

He'll tell her that he's _so sorry_ about not living up to expectations; she always seems to believe the best in him.

He'll tell her that he's _so fucking scared_ about where his life is going right now; he's going to get kicked out for not graduating and he'll have _nothing_.

He'll tell her that he _needs_ her and that they _have _to work through this; he loves her.

He clenches his jaw as he sits in the empty bedroom, the walls thumping along with the loud music from downstairs. There's no way he can control himself tonight. Not here. He wants to go away. Drive _far_ away from Stars Hollow. Maybe he'll ask her to come away with him to New York. Right now. They'll walk around the city all night, have ice cream in cones and then he'll be able to talk.

The plan calms his nerves a bit. Yeah. He'll go downstairs and find her. Their fingers will lace together with the beautiful, silent eloquence that shakes him every time and run out of the house. His piece of shit car may not make it all the way, but wherever they break down, they'll take a bus the rest of the way.

But then she finds him and his nerves get shot straight to hell.

"Sad boy, what's wrong?"

He can only shake his head; he can't speak. His heart is stuck in his throat, and this is the closest to having his heart on his sleeve.

* * *

A/N: This is another scene that I _cringe_ while watching...this will probably be the closest I get to it, like my first oneshot about the dorm scene. Not touching either of these scenes quite yet. I think it's because I'm a relatively new fan of this show and I haven't had years to get over it.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	42. A Man Who's Never Truly Loved Anything

A/N: After _Heavier Things_, I really stopped listening to John Mayer, except for a few songs that were on the radio, and I didn't like the ones I heard ("Waiting on the World to Change" is the _worst _song ever, in my opinion). But I fell in love with this one.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I was born in the arms of imaginary friends_

_Free to roam, made a home out of everywhere I've been_

_Then you come on crashing in, like the realest thing_

_Trying my best to understand all that your love can bring_

_- John Mayer_

A Man Who's Never Truly Loved Anything

**got a right mind to tell you.**

She thinks she's damaged. She won't admit it, but he knows she thinks she does. Yeah, growing up with a dad who rarely visits, being raised by someone who is only sixteen years older than her, living in near poverty for most of her life must've left its mark.

But the fact is, she turned out okay. More than okay, in fact. He's the real damaged kid, but she refuses to really believe it. She doesn't quite see how fucked up he is, and sometimes he just wants to shake her, force her to see that he's _not whole_.

When he first sees Dean, he doesn't think he deserves Rory. Or maybe it's that she looks too content with him and he wants to screw it up; something about wanting to destroy perfection because it's not real.

So thinks the boy who carries books with him, who only enjoys the company of the alter egos of writers long dead.

But he likes to think that he wants to mess them up because he sees _something_ in her. He recognizes her bright mind. But he should've realized her naïveté isn't going to go away once she stops dating Dean.

Once she starts dating _him_.

Maybe he just likes that she treats him like he's normal, and not the fucked up person he really is. But at the same time, because of it, she doesn't think twice about some of his subtle, yet revealing comments, or the way he holds her tightly as she falls asleep in his arms during a movie.

**your faith is strong.**

The funny thing is, he thinks Luke understands, in his own thickheaded way.

Jess and Rory are lounging on the leather couch, watching a movie. She's lying on top of him, her head hidden in the crook of his neck as she sleeps, her hand resting over his heart. His arms already around her waist, but he holds her a little closer anyway.

Luke walks in, a half hour earlier than he was supposed to. He stares at them, catches Jess' hint of vulnerability as he watches Rory sleep. But then it's gone, and Jess meets Luke's gaze, trying to be neutral.

After a few moments, Luke mutters, "I'll tell Lorelai that Rory will meet her at home," before leaving the apartment.

Jess lets out a shaky breath of air before closing his eyes.

**i can only fall short for so long.**

Lorelai refuses to see it. She draws a veil over her eyes so she can't see their relationship because she wants so badly to believe it's nothing.

See, the problem with Lorelai is that she's very well aware of how screwed up he is, but she doesn't see beyond that. She thinks he's _inhuman_. That he's _too_ tarnished, incapable of truly loving her daughter.

He supposes that in the end, she's the closest to being right.

**you will hate that i never gave more to you.**

Rory gives herself so freely to him. He knows by the end of April that she snuck her heart on his sleeve. Although no words are said, he just knows.

She thinks she has him too, but she doesn't. Not completely. Although he's given her more of him than he ever did with anyone, there's _something _holding him back.

And it's better this way, he supposes, after he finds out he's not graduating. If he really gave her everything, then he could never leave; he would stay with her forever.

She quickly realizes the inequity of their exchange of selves, and he knows she feels cheated, saddened, angered. He tries to send her heart back to her when he calls her from California, but he finds himself holding on so tightly, like those nights when she falls asleep in his arms.

She only manages to take back half.

**half my heart won't do.**

He doesn't think she's fully aware of how much he still carries with him until he tells her that he loves her; he finally gives her the other half of his heart. He would feel empty, but he still has that piece of her heart. It's almost like a sentimental note kept for years, the writing faded and the paper soft and crinkled.

**i can't stop loving you.**

She takes it away from him when he comes to her dorm room. She rips the half of her heart from his tightly held fist, and this time he's left with nothing. Now she has her entire heart, even if it's a bit marred from being in his possession for this long. And she has his, which is a mess, and hardened, but there are parts that are so sensitive, that are cracking as she yells at him.

_No!_

With that she throws his heart back to him.

His mangled heart barely beats as he walks out, tears in his eyes because he _knew he was right in high school._ He should've allowed her to just keep half of his heart, even though he knew it wasn't good enough.

But the sad thing is, he couldn't leave her with just half because he loves her.

**got a real good imagination.**

Writing helps him, surprisingly. One day, he's writing a list of things he has to do for the day, the next he's scrounging around for unused napkins and discarded newspapers to finish writing down his thoughts.

He ends up losing half the napkins, but it doesn't matter; for the first time in years he's beginning to do well.

His book is rough, like a raw gem, but Matt and Chris see the potential, so they publish it; they think he can be so much more than who he is. They also treat him like he's a real person, but he knows they've seen the large, horrid scar over his heart; they don't question it. It's the best that Jess could do; he never had to fix anything more substantial than a toaster before.

**down the road, later on.**

He comes back into her life, Round Two, and she seems happy to see him. He tells her that his book couldn't have been written if it weren't for her. _If she hadn't shown him love. If she hadn't ripped his heart into pieces afterwards_; he doesn't say _those_ words, but they're in between the lines, like miscellaneous margin notes.

But it's okay because for once, he's at ease. He's happy sometimes, sure, but really he's just calm: he goes through his days without anger, and he goes to sleep easily enough. It's the best he's been since he was a kid.

As a thank you, he wakes her up from this half-asleep mode she's been in for the past few months; it's the least he could do. Now she can stop running away from her feelings (stop running away in general) and just _feel_ everything she's been putting off for too long.

Sounds fair.

**got you.**

It seems that being on decent terms with her helps him recover better. His heart isn't so battered anymore, even though it seems that it only beats for her, which is evident when he sees her walk into Truncheon.

He knew, somehow he just _knew_ that they were going to kiss. It was bound to happen; especially since the last time they kissed it wasn't exactly…a good time.

So they kiss.

And it's not quite the same as before. Now she's more experienced, a little less shy, but he doesn't care, because he's _finally_ with her.

Of course, it doesn't last long. Nothing good lasts long for him.

She claims to love that asshole, whom he had the misfortune of meeting the last time he saw her. And he realizes that this isn't the Rory he loves; she almost fooled him into believing that she _completely_ changed back.

His heart doesn't hurt that much, which amazes him. Even when he watches her walk out the door, he's still standing on his two feet, feeling strangely numb.

Lately he's been contemplating over the theory that she derives a secret pleasure from ruining guys, almost like lashing back for not having a prominent male figure in her life. She collects boys' hearts like they're key chains, and when they're not pretty anymore, or when they break she throws them away. Or sometimes she keeps a shard of them for nostalgia, which it seems she's done with his heart long ago.

Hm, maybe _she's _more screwed up than _he_ thought. Oh, the irony.

But the jokes on her, he thinks. He's now capable of parting from her with his heart relatively in tact, which is more than anyone else could say.

She can't (won't) fuck with his heart again.

* * *

A/N: Since I won't be posting until after this weekend, happy Easter to those who celebrate! And to those who don't…enjoy Passover (for those who are Jewish) and/or have a great weekend!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	43. You Never Could Get It

A/N: One of the many things that annoyed me most about Jess' lack of screen time is that we never got to see any potential friendships of his, like with Lane or Paris.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_He's everything you want_

_He's everything you need_

_He's everything inside of you_

_That you wish you could be_

_He says all the right things_

_At exactly the right time_

_But he means nothing to you_

_- Vertical Horizon_

You Never Could Get It

He walks into her dreary English class, and she's intrigued.

Crazy dark hair, perfect jaw, dangerous, intelligent eyes: everything that screams rebellion, and Lane Kim wants it all.

The teacher tries to make him introduce himself, but he flat out rejects her, making Lane's heart flutter; this boy is everything she wishes she could be. Of course, the teacher is astounded that a student would go against her, but she just assumes it's because he's shy.

She points to the back of the classroom, to the seat behind Lane, and she's secretly dancing inside. Lane mentally scans through her songs for the rest of class to discover the perfect lyric for him.

* * *

Lane catches him reading in class a lot. For a moment, she thinks of Rory; they both get that peaceful look whenever they open a book.

She laughs a little as she eats her tofu sandwich, envisioning Rory and Jess meeting.

Jess and Lane also share history class together, and this time, he sits to her right. However, despite this delightful development, she's still bored out of her mind in class, so she starts writing out lyrics to "Behind Blue Eyes" on the margins of her notebook, murmuring the words under her breath.

"Good song."

She twists her head and sees Jess staring at her, his approval is hard to see, but she can sense it.

"I know," she whispers, flushing. "One of the best albums of all time."

He nods his head once in agreement. "Favorite song?"

"'Getting In Tune.' Or…'Won't Get Fooled Again'…Or…I can't choose! They're all so great. Even 'Baba O'Riley," normally popular hits aren't as great as some of the hidden gems of an album, but that's just as amazing," Lane gushes.

He smirks a little.

"What about you?" she questions.

"Ms. Kim! Stop talking!"

Lane straightens up in her chair and turns red all over again. "Sorry, Mrs. Richards."

She sneaks a glance at Jess, but he's looking down at his book, this time a small smile on his face.

* * *

After two weeks of observing and exchanging head nods in school, Lane manages to sneak into the diner to have a decent breakfast with Lorelai and Rory. She wants to tell Rory how much Luke's nephew, Jess Mariano, fascinates her. He's an _actual_ rebel! She wants to really talk with him and learn his ways.

But after Lorelai rushes out of the diner to the Inn, Jess comes by and pours Rory more coffee. When he's done, he turns to go back to the cash register, revealing a book in his back pocket. Rory gasps. "I _love_ _Nine Stories_."

Jess turns around and raises an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face. "Do you now?" But Lane can't help but think that he already knows this, somehow.

Rory scoffs. "You've seen part of my collection – the ones on the shelves are my absolute favorites that I pull out frequently. _Nine Stories_ being one of them. What's your favorite story?" she asks excitedly.

"Guess."

Rory furrows her eyebrows in concentration, and Lane can't help but wonder when the heck Rory and Jess were able to meet, or at least get to the point of knowing each other where they can talk like this.

And that's when she realizes she's jealous of Rory. What a shock. Of course she was always jealous that Rory has a chill mom, but she never was so…_bitterly_ jealous about something in Rory's life before.

"'A Perfect Day for Bananafish.' Or 'Teddy,'" Rory answers after some time thinking.

"You have to pick one."

"Fine. 'A Perfect Day for Bananafish.'"

"Nice try."

She pouts, watching his smirk broaden. "Is it 'Teddy?'" she tries again.

"Nope."

"_Really_. Hm…what's something I wouldn't expect…I got it! 'De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period.'"

"Interesting choice, but no. Let me guess yours: 'For Esmé – with Love and Squalor.'"

She pauses, her pretty blue eyes widening. "How did you know?"

"Because it's my favorite." And with a final smirk, he heads back to the counter where he pulls out his book and flips to his marked page.

_He likes her_.

"Hey, Rory, I just remembered that I have to help Mama Kim with some organizing," Lane finds herself saying because she can't stand to be with Rory a second longer.

"Didn't you do that last weekend?"

"Yeah, but she found some things were messed up, so she wants to me to help. I'll be free later though!"

And she runs out of the diner and up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Lane? Are you alright?" Mama Kim calls through the door.

"Yes, Mama. I just started to feel sick, that's all. It's nothing. I'll feel better after a quick nap."

"Well…alright…but when you're done, come downstairs and pray with me. We must pray for your father's business venture."

"Yes, Mama."

Lane waits until her mother's footsteps disappear to start crying.

She loves her best friend and she would do anything for her (that is, within her Mama Kim-imposed limits), but she can't help but find this to be unfair: she already has a caring, loving, albeit a bit dull (may God forgive her) boyfriend. Why does she have to have _another_ guy fawning over her while Lane hasn't even had her first kiss yet?

But Jess isn't exactly _fawning_, per se. He seems to be…_weaseling_ (but a nicer version of the word) into Rory's life, trying to make her think, question her picture-perfect life.

And Rory _does_ have a picture-perfect life right now: she's the Town Princess, she's best friends with her mom, she has a doting boyfriend, she's intelligent, pretty…

_No_, _there's more to Rory than just that_, Lane thinks to herself, wiping her eyes underneath her glasses. _And Jess must see that_, she realizes.

"Behind Blue Eyes" comes to her mind.

_No one knows what it's like/To feel these feelings/Like I do/And I blame you._

She shouldn't blame Rory; it's not like she _knew_ about it. And she's not trying to attract him, even though she's doing a damn good job, regardless.

_None of my pain and woe/Can show through._

So Lane won't bother to tell Rory about her fascination of Jess Mariano. There's no point, anyway; Jess will never see her as more than a music fanatic, or Rory's best friend.

_Behind blue eyes._

_Blue eyes._

_Blue._

_Eyes._

She shoots out of bed, her body and soul tingling. Somehow, before Lane could even comprehend, Jess and Rory were meant to meet. It can't be _just_ coincidence that Lane got that particular song stuck in her head that first day. While the lyrics aren't really fitting for this situation, it's the fact that her best friend has blue eyes, and after a meeting that Lane will have to drill Rory about later, Jess' interests were peaked.

Now Lane is falling in love with this concept of Jess and Rory being destined for each other, and it's overpowering her disappointment on the impossibility of forming a connection with him.

It's okay though, one day she'll meet someone, and he'll understand her life and he'll work hard to get around her limitations in order to be with her. As Our Lord says many times: keep faith.

* * *

In history class on Monday morning, Lane writes a note to Jess and as soon as the teacher turns her back to write something on the board, she places the paper on his desk.

Jess looks at her with curiosity, before holding back a laugh. Lane glares at him to shut up, not wanting to get yelled at again.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender before opening the note, which reads, "_Good luck –you're going to need it_."

He glances to Lane with raised eyebrows. Lane pretends she didn't do anything and goes to copy what their teacher wrote on the board. Hopefully he'll get the hint that this will never be repeated, ever.

In the corner of her eye she catches Jess pocketing the note in his jeans, a lopsided grin on his face.

* * *

A/N: Another long one, I'm sorry. I know some of you prefer the shorter ones. I promise the next one will be short :) I hope this was somewhat interesting/believable. If there are any mistakes, let me know; I haven't watched the beginning of season 2 in a while.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	44. You Could Do So Much Better

A/N: I thought I would only have songs with deep meaning…but that didn't work out. Ah well, _c'e la vie_. I suppose that dream died once I used Ke$ha lyrics anyway…

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Hey, hey,_

_You, you,_

_I don't like your girlfriend_

_- Avril Lavigne_

You Could Do So Much Better

She shouldn't have expected anything from him. After all, she did run away after kissing him and didn't contact him for almost two months. So why would he wait for her? She has Dean, her loving, dependable boyfriend. It's not like she can kiss Jess again. No, it would've been dumb for him to wait.

So, to her logical conclusion: there was absolutely no reason for her to hold expectations.

But why does it feel like a shot of betrayal when she finally finds him, kissing some blonde girl with his hands in her back pockets? Kissing someone who isn't her?

And honestly, what kind of a respectable young woman would openly make out with a guy like that? While being _groped_ no less! She's a class-A slut: a ditzy blonde with no moral code. And Jess is better than those jerks that only go with girls because they put out. It's not like he can talk about Hemingway and Tolstoy with _her_.

Dean comes over and this is the first kiss she's had since Jess', and she's trying hard not to compare. She brings him into a hug, because she doesn't want him to see her face (there's disappointment in her expression).

She watches Jess continue to suck Blonde Girl's face, and for a crazy, lustful moment, she wishes she were in his arms. Her body flushes as the thought of his nimble fingers brushing over her skin, and his mouth…

She bites her bottom lip hard, wanting these heat-induced fantasies to stop.

But she's unable to; her body (and dare she say her heart?) can't help but want _him_. However, it doesn't matter. No matter what it takes, she's going to take that to her grave; they can't be together. But that doesn't mean that he should go out with a bimbo skank like _her _instead. It's almost as if since Rory finds him worthy, that he shouldn't lower himself and grope slutty girls.

It's twisted logic, definitely one that of a jealous (_she's not jealous_, she repeats in her head) person, but she'll grasp at whatever straws she can to keep her attention focused on Dean as they walk through the town, listening to each other's summers.

* * *

A/N: I have a random question for you people: does anyone know Chris' and Matt's eye colors? I'm strangely picturing Chris with green eyes and Matt with brown, but I could be way off the mark.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	45. Hear These Here Words

A/N: I love this song, and this artist.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I just want a small part in your passion play_

_- William Fitzsimmons_

Hear These Here Words

"Hey, what do you and Dean talk about?" Jess asks out of innocent curiosity and something sneakier.

"What?"

"I mean…does he know Björk?" he suggests.

Rory hesitates before saying, "I played him some stuff," while nodding her head.

He nods. "Hmm. So you got a teacher-student thing goin'," he says, half-joking, half-serious.

"Stop."

"No really, I'm curious. What do you guys talk about?"

"Everything."

"Like…" he trails off, wanting a real answer. If she can answer this one question, then _maybe_ he can leave her be in her seemingly (oh whom is he trying to spare offense? It's a _completely_) passionless relationship with Dean Forrester.

"Just…everything. Tons of stuff. Whatever," she answers defensively.

_Wrong answer_, he immediately thinks. Or maybe that's _exactly_ the kind of answer he was hoping for.

"It's just in the brief non-pugilistic time I've spent with him in class he just…doesn't seem like your kind of guy," he explains.

She tries to laugh. "Well he _is _my kind of guy. He's _exactly_ my kind of guy."

"Okay, guess I don't know him that well."

"You don't," she says, looking at him. Seeing his face she repeats, "You don't," looking as if she's trying to convince herself that there's no possible way Jess can already know Dean.

He looks away from her and stares at the passing houses and shops. She may not agree with him now, but he's subtly thrown monkey wrenches into the works. Eventually she'll realize. Because let's face it: he's one of the few people who will get her wacky references, and he's the _only_ person who can have an intelligent conversation with her.

She'll soon crave for his presence; he's like a breath of fresh air in this stale environment.

And the next day, before he leaves the inn, he catches her staring at him, and he smiles a little, almost encouraging her. _Yeah, I'm interesting, new, different; and you're curious_. It's beginning.

There's Dean in the corner of his eye, his head revolving between Jess and Rory, and Jess knows that Dean is starting to put the pieces together.

Now things will begin to pick up and get interesting.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who responded to my question - I really appreciate it! I left my _Gilmore Girls_ DVDs at home during my last break so I can't check things out for myself.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	46. I Will Be Nothing But a Memory To You

A/N: My favorite old-school ATL song.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_There's a look in your eye_

_And it's screaming "goodbye"_

_Now it tears me apart_

_Just to look at the sky_

_But I'd hate to watch you cry_

_I'd hate to watch you cry_

_- All Time Low_

I Will Be Nothing But A Memory To You

She knows this is the last time she's going to see him. He tries to make it seem like it's a normal day of his skipping school. But she knows, she knows.

He doesn't give anything away, as usual. His expression always stoic. But she ignores his straight face and looks into his eyes and there is _so much turmoil_. Her throat closes and she's finding it hard to breathe.

So she holds back her tears, because she knows it hurts him a lot. She doesn't know why, but he can't stand to watch her break down. He always tries to make her stop crying, but he doesn't know that he's the one who causes the tears.

Or, at least, he didn't used to know. Now he knows, he knows.

She doesn't remember what they even talk about. Fran? No prom? _Why didn't they say anything substantial_? His bag is _right there_; it's almost hidden, but not quite. She could've (_should've_) said something. And same with him.

She gets off the bus after taking one last glimpse of him; this is the last time she's going to see him for a while, isn't it?

As the bus rolls away, her face crumples as she tries to hold back her sobs. She brings a hand to her mouth to muffle the cries as a few tears escape and roll down her face (it almost makes her look pretty).

"_Fuck you, Jess_!" she curses with her teeth clenched, her hands balled into fists by her sides.

"Hey, Gilmore, you alright there?"

Rory turns around and automatically wipes her face dry. It's Paris, looking concerned (it's a rare expression).

"Yeah, fine."

Paris clearly doesn't believe her, but drops the subject. "Well, come on. Just because you're in the running for valedictorian doesn't mean you can just slack off."

Before Rory follows Paris into Chilton, she turns her head to the road.

She can't see him anymore (she never really could).

* * *

A/N: My birthday was Earth Day :) That's all I have to say, really.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	47. Headed For A Breakdown

A/N: _Gilmore Girls_ is now available on iTunes! Now I can finally own the Jess episodes from seasons 4 and 6 without spending a ton of money on all those other episodes! Happy day!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell_

_I know, right now you can't tell_

_But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see_

_A different side of me_

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired_

_I know, right now you don't care_

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me_

_And how I used to be_

_- Matchbox Twenty_

Headed For A Breakdown

He has to be going crazy. It's the only logical explanation as to why he's pulled aside five people, demanding if they know which dorm Rory Gilmore lives in.

But if he really is crazy, then why and _how_ is he so calm with finding Dean and Rory together? How can Jess just _ignore_ Dean, when the last time this basic scenario occurred they ended up in a fistfight?

Eventually Dean leaves with a grunt (and people think _Jess_ is incapable of properly communicating), and they're alone.

But it's all fucked up. Rory is whining like a child, a far cry from how she usually behaves, and he's trying to scramble his thoughts together, unable to _think_. He thought that the twenty-two-point-eight mile drive would be long enough to work through what Luke told him, but it barely began to scratch the surface. There's a lot to undo and fix, and it's driving him –

"What do you want?" she finally asks, sounding somewhat mature.

"I don't know. I just…wanted to see you. Talk to you. I just…"

"What?"

Maybe it's the way she demanded an answer that causes him to lose all rational thought.

"Come with me."

Insanity is the only vindication he has for what happens after.

But her final "NO" brings him back, and he's never felt like this before. He doesn't understand how or know what he's supposed to do from here. He feels like driving far away and never looking back. He feels like dropping to his knees and pulling at his hair and screaming up at the sky in pure anger and frustration and grief. He feels like standing completely still, his mind peacefully quiet.

That's all he really wants, even more than Rory.

He wonders if he's cracking, or maybe that he was already cracked and just didn't realize it until he was bearing his soul to her, and she looked at him like he was unstable.

As he drives off campus (surprisingly calm once again), he contemplates whether this is some sort of breakthrough or breakdown. Maybe it's a little of both. Maybe it's neither. Either way, he has to get his shit together somehow. So the next time he sees her (there's going to be a next time, no question), he won't seem completely unhinged.

But he supposes that he has to be a _little_ unhinged if he's going to continue trying to be part of Rory's life. Besides, as Bukowski once said, "Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must live."

* * *

A/N: So, I finished catching up with _Heroes_ – holy crackers! Can Peter/Emma be the cutest thing ever? I think so. I don't understand how people can ship Peter/Claire – they're uncle/niece! If you're a fan of the latter, please, enlighten me, because I see no chemistry beyond that of family.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	48. It's A Hunger

A/N: Every Avenue's cover of "Take Me Home Tonight" is very good, by the way. Check it out!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I can feel you breathe_

_I can feel your heart beat faster_

_Take me home tonight_

_I don't want to let you go till you see the light_

_- Eddie Money_

It's A Hunger

"Okay, so I guess we should be getting back. I did promise to study if you go on this ice cream run with me."

"Yes, you did."

"Okay, so I just go straight and we'll be back at Luke's."

"Good sense of direction."

"Of course, I could turn _right_ and then we'd just be…driving around in circles for a while."

He really looks at her, hoping that she somehow understands that this can't end. Not yet, at least. The last time they've hung out like this was after that Bid-A-Basket event, and somehow this and that hasn't been _nearly_ enough for him. He wants to spend time with her. A lot of time with her. There's _something_ about her that makes him want to keep her close to him. He likes broadening her horizons, showing her alternatives to living other than the "Stars Hollow's Princess" way.

"Turn right," she states, a hint of a smile on her face.

He checks the road and looks back at her, smirking.

"As you wish," he says, barely able to restrain his satisfaction.

It seems that she likes his showing her these things.

* * *

A/N: Okay everyone, finals for me are around the corner, so I'm afraid this is going to be the last update until around the 17th when I'm done with them all. I'm sorry, but my grades are rather important! **Also, for all those people who give me their e-mail addresses in their reviews/PMs, FFN automatically deletes them if you write them out fully – add some spaces in between the address.**

Also, on a completely random note: is anyone a beta/knows someone who's a beta on LiveJournal? PM me for details!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	49. Take These Broken Wings And Learn To Fly

A/N: I've always wondered how Rory mentally handled Jess' leaving.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night_

_- The Beatles_

Take These Broken Wings And Learn To Fly

"Jess is gone."

Rory closes her eyes. "Gone where?" she inquires, unable to look at her mother, because _knows_ that beyond the sympathy in her eyes, there's going to be _aha! I told you so_. And frankly, she doesn't want to deal with that.

"I don't know. Luke knows, but he didn't tell me. But he doesn't seem to think he's coming back."

Rory looks up to keep her tears at bay before looking down again, her jaw clenched.

"Neither do I," she admits.

She sneaks a glance at her mother, seeing that _damned_ sympathy, and she looks away again.

"Are you okay?" Lorelai asks concernedly.

Rory shakes her head. "Yeah," she finally says with a nod, looking down. It's all a bunch of lies.

Lorelai lets out a sigh of frustration and plants her hands on the wheel. "Forget this," she says, looking ahead and running the red light.

Of course they get pulled over, Lorelai letting out a stream of expletives before putting on her most charming smile to the police officer.

Rory ignores it all and glances into the dark of night. She bites her bottom lip, wondering where he is. She hopes he's okay; she really wants him to be. But at the same time, she wishes that he could've _said_ something instead of fleeing.

She wishes _she_ could've reached out to him these past few days.

But they didn't do anything. And now he's gone, and she's left trying to hold back tears. Because let's face it: she's not going to be able to grieve about this; this moment in the car with Lorelai is going to be the _only_ time she expresses any sort of sadness for his leaving in front of her.

She curls her hands into tight fists, the pain of her nails digging into the palms of her hand distracting her from crying.

_Not yet_, she thinks to herself. _Not. Yet._

_

* * *

_

Rory's the first one to enter the house.

"Oh my god. I am _so _tired," Rory says, making sure her steps are slightly sluggish. It's kind of a lie, but not really.

"How about going to bed?" Lorelai suggests in a certain tone of voice, almost knowing that she won't.

"I have to study."

"Or better yet, make a pot of coffee, and once again get no sleep. Just as good."

Rory ignores her mother's sarcasm as she grabs a dictionary, noticing a folded envelope.

"What's this?" Rory asks, picking up the letter.

"Ah, Yale needed my social security number. Something," Lorelai says, taking the letter.

Is she lying? Hm, that makes two of them.

She heads to her room, hoping that this could be the end of it all. Privacy would be nice right about now. She just needs to let out some steam, and then she promises she'll be just fine.

"Look who became a soche," Lorelai calls out, probably still flipping through her yearbook.

"What?" Rory's nose twitches in frustration.

"You've got a lot of signatures in here, little girl."

"Everybody signs everybody's yearbook, it's polite." Rory's surprised at how normal she sounds. She never thought she was a good liar. Well, she certainly learned from the best.

"'Rory, have a great summer. BFF, Amber.' Hey, Amber BFF'd you!"

"Yeah, I feel truly blessed," Rory says sarcastically. Her sarcasm has certainly improved this year. Again, she learned from the best.

She walks out of her room and into the kitchen in a bit of a huff, flipping through some papers."

"'Hey, Aurory borealis.' Okay, you can't talk to this one ever again. 'You have been my inspiration, my rock, my light. I loved you in _South Pacific_.' When did you do _South Pacific_?"

"What?" Rory asks with a hint of exasperation, checking into the living room to see her mother.

"Some dipstick named Shauna thinks you were in _South Pacific_."

Rory waves dismissively. "Oh, Shauna tends to get people mixed up."

"Oh, okay."

Rory goes back to unloading her backpack, wondering how the _hell_ she's doing this right now. Her insides are tearing up inside, and here she is, talking about _Shauna_?

"Hey, you know what's weird? A lot of the kids in here are calling you a valedictorian. Is that anything like a dirty skank?"

Rory looks down, kind of feeling like crying again.

"'Cause if it is, I will kick their plaid butts up and down the sidewalk," Lorelai continues.

Rory keeps her head down and shrugs in admittance.

"Were you named valedictorian?"

"Yes, and you know what that means? One more stupid speech that I have to write that I have no time to write, but nevertheless I have to write."

She turns on her heel to go to her room, because she wants to be _left alone_.

But then Lorelai grabs Rory's arm preventing her from leaving. "Hey, listen." It feels like Rory's trapped between her mother's hands. "My little Holly Hunter in _Broadcast News_. I'm going to let you freak out and…and study like a madwoman and stress yourself out until finals, but once they're over, we are going to celebrate big time. Because this is _amazing_."

Rory tries to smile; she loves her mom, and the way she's looking at her with such pride.

"Yeah. It is," she admits.

Lorelai kisses Rory's cheek before grinning. "Okay. Now go make Mommy nervous."

Rory gives her a last smile before turning to her room, bringing a hand to her cheek to quickly wipe off a stray tear.

_Not yet_, she tells herself again. _Not. Yet._

_

* * *

_

_Now_.

Rory waits a few seconds before cracking her door open, peaking out to see that Lorelai has shut off all the lights and has gone to bed.

Rory grabs her pillow and opens her window, trying not to remember her first meeting with Jess.

She sneaks out.

She briefly wonders what Jess would say if she could see her now.

She grips her pillow tighter and walks to the only place she knows she won't be disturbed, where she can express her emotions freely.

It's kind of sad how she doesn't feel like she can wallow in her own house.

There's the bridge.

It takes her a few minutes to make her way to the middle. She plops to the ground, her legs suddenly weak as she thinks about all the times they came here to read, to talk, to kiss…

She inhales sharply, tears filling her eyes.

_Jess is gone_.

Her first tear for Jess Mariano rolls down her face perfectly, landing on her pillow.

_But he doesn't seem to think he's coming back._

She buries her head in her pillow and _screams _over and over again, so that by the end, her throat is sore and her sobs sound so broken.

She should've known this would happen, that he would leave. He always talked about it, but she never really _thought_…

She just thought that he would change his mind.

But he didn't. And now he's gotten exactly what he always wanted: freedom.

She hears a cawing, scaring her half to death until she realizes that it's just a crow.

A blackbird.

She almost smiles.

"_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_," she whispers, sniffling and wiping her face. Maybe, just maybe, this is an okay thing. He needs to go work out a few things, _clearly_, and maybe she does too. She hasn't been single in a long, long time. This is good, a fresh start in college. It's what she's always wanted, right?

She grips her pillow tighter. It used to be what she wanted. Now she's not so sure. She wonders if Jess is somehow realizing this for himself.

They changed each other. Or at least she liked to think so.

She hopes so. She hopes that she did some good; once they started dating, he definitely became less…_abrasive_.

And even though he caused her to do things she's not proud of (waiting by the phone some nights, cleaning her keyboard), she realizes that he also brought out something beautiful in her: the ability to just be herself.

She exhales shakily, more tears filling her eyes, but she forces herself to stop. It's done. That's enough. She shouldn't be wallowing like this anymore. She gave herself the time, and now she has to go back to her house before her mom can suspect anything.

She stands up and walks off the bridge. She closes her eyes before making that final step off.

* * *

When she gets back to her room, she writes her graduation speech. Without meaning to, she references books that Jess loves. He would've liked to hear this speech; it's a shame. It will be her silent shout out to him.

She falls asleep at three in the morning with silent tears rolling down her face. And when she wakes up in the morning, unable to speak, she tells her mom that she must've caught a sore throat by leaving the window open.

This won't be too difficult. She'll be fine.

She'll be fine.

* * *

A/N: And I'm back! It's been stressful, but I'm done with school. Freshman year of college is done. It was fucking hard, but I'm glad it's over. Next year should be easier. I hope.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	50. Now Make A Change

A/N: I really wish we got Windward Circle…damn you Venice Beach for the high filming costs!

Hey, this is the 50th update! Yay!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_From coast to coast_

_I'll make the most_

_Of every second_

_I've been given with this crowd_

_Without a doubt_

_You're all I dream about_

_- All Time Low_

Now Make A Change

Not that Jess would ever admit it…he's scared. So _damn_ petrified of what's going to happen once he steps outside Venice Beach and starts heading back east. The source of everything good and bad in his life is over there.

He sighs and flips to his back to stare at the ceiling, illuminated by the moon.

And what is he going to do, exactly? Just bum around, take low-paying jobs for a few days to make enough money to hit the road again? Be Jack Kerouac? And what happens if no one hires him? Or if he gets mugged? He supposes he could always pickpocket, but he hasn't done that in _years. _Besides, he looks suspicious enough as it is; when he was twelve he was able to get away with it.

Not only that, he'd feel bad; he only picked pockets when Liz and he were two days away from being evicted from their home.

Home. What _does_ that word mean, anyway? New York was home, he assumes. He did live there for almost seventeen years. But Stars Hollow? No fucking way. Even though Rory did make it tolerable, he hates that place.

But not Rory.

But as he lies here, unable to sleep, he can't help but resent her a little. She did something to him, changing him irrevocably. And he wishes that he didn't want her so much.

Then again, he more than repaid the favor; she probably (definitely) hates him for leaving without saying goodbye. Again.

_STOP THIS_, he yells in his mind as he catapults himself forward, his jaw clenched and his body tense. It's time for him to stop feeling sorry for himself, and regretting what he did, because it goes both ways. Yeah, he sucked at the whole relationship thing, but it wasn't as if she was perfect either. In fact, she's _not _perfect.

But she's perfect for him, he thinks as he relaxes a little. And he likes to think that he's perfect for her.

So he's going to hold onto them, because he knows they're perfect in a crazily good, imperfect way.

_VOMIT-INDUCING_, he mentally yells at himself, grimacing.

Or maybe it's just that suspicious-looking Chinese food he took a few bites of earlier today.

Ugh. This romantic bullshit is _not_ him. He can read about it, he can watch it, but he _refuses_ to have it happen in his own life.

Maybe that's why he left.

He groans in frustration and falls back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling once more.

Yeah, he doesn't know what's going to happen once he leaves this house, but he does know that he has to do some things. What things, he has no fucking clue. But he hopes he can figure it out along the way.

* * *

A/N: I love All Time Low, in case you haven't noticed. I think I've used their lyrics the most in this collection...

If you have any music suggestions, let me know!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	51. Don't Tell Me, Let Me Guess

A/N: My dad has always liked her, and I happen to really enjoy this one song by her; I was listening to it recently, and I was reminded of Jess.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I can't do it_

_And as for you,_

_Can you in good conscience even ask me to?_

'_Cause what do you care_

_About this great divide_

_As long as you come down on the winner's side_

_- Aimee Mann_

Don't Tell Me, Let Me Guess

At first, Jess is pissed at Rory for always trying to change him. Kind of hypocritical when he thinks about it, really. Isn't that what he tried to do?

No, he was only trying to ease her out of her shell, tease out the true Rory from the façade of Stars Hollow Princess. He's the only person besides Lorelai who has seen it, and she always resented him for it. She never wanted a surly boy with dark and a preference for solidarity to have that ability, and Jess can't blame her – he certainly didn't make it easy.

Rory was overdue for the transition, for the growth, which is more than she can say to defend her actions.

Now he knows he wasn't ready, not really. He needed to open his mind and be _willing_. That's the key. She was willing, and he wasn't. He should've known that she expected that same right to try. Then again, she should've also known that he never played by equivalent exchange. He's always been a "take what you can for yourself, and give nothing back" kind of person, especially since he had to fight way too damn hard for everything he had.

It took him one surprisingly honest conversation with Luke and one self-help book later to recognize what it really means.

But it doesn't matter, because Rory will never give him that second chance that she seems to give out like _free candy_ to everyone else but him.

Maybe it's not even a second chance for the person…but more for _herself_. Suddenly, clarity washes over him, recognizing a fundamental personality trait of hers in this pattern of behavior.

She always hated being wrong.

And she had always bore a grudge him for being right about random things. When it comes to miscellaneous actors, or character names in books, if she was wrong, and he was right, it drove her _crazy_.

He thinks about Dean. It ended with her looking bad: she couldn't muster up the nerve to end it properly, and so she was never satisfied with the conclusion of that relationship.

So she gives it another go, which he finds out from Luke after some prodding to see if his theory is right.

He's always right about unimportant things.

He wonders if she got the conclusion she wanted, with her being in the right.

That's what she got when she ended it with him, right? He ran away and didn't talk to her. In the end, she made herself the victim, the hero, making him the villain.

In a way, he hopes that she didn't, that she ended up being wrong again.

It seems right, but then he remembers Blond Dick With A Porsche, and wonders how staying with a guy after he cheated works with his insight.

He thinks for a bit, but quickly realizes that it doesn't. That's not in her true personality. He doesn't know this girl who drives hours to Philadelphia just to get even, so his finally figuring her out doesn't mean anything anymore. His knowledge is outdated.

While he did know her better than anyone before, now he knows the old Rory as if she were part of him. It's just sad that with the way she is now, she will never know anyone like that because it's really quite something.

* * *

A/N: I hope this was interesting – I had a lot of fun writing it. Especially since it's another reason why we should hate Rory.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	52. You're So Fresh

A/N: I was re-watching "A-Tisket, A-Tasket," and I was reminded of how brilliant this episode really is.

Standard disclaimers apply.

_

* * *

And the fingers of your mind_

_Have wrapped around my spine_

_And made me feel so blind_

_- Chester French_

You're So Fresh

He doesn't understand how she can do this to him. Never in his life has been so intrigued by a person. She's like a work of art to him: that _just right_ shade of brown of her hair, which contrasts so well against her porcelain-yet-peachy skin. And those _eyes_. He's only read about eyes like that, never actually having a pair try to pierce his soul before.

She's so open, and it fascinates him. He can read every emotion that flickers through her eyes, and it should be boring for him to easily read her, but it's not. How can she be like that?

It's nice that she treats him like a person, and not like a delinquent or a _hoodlum_. How did such a narrow-minded town nurture and raise such a girl?

All these questions, and no (apparent) answers.

As they walk and talk in the bookstore, he figures it has to be because characters written in pages also raised her; he was raised that way too, but to (much) different results. He wonders about what she's read throughout the years and the music she likes, how they shaped her into the person she is right now, laughing with him over a slice a pizza.

They part ways, saying they should do it again sometime soon, even though they know they won't; this town talks too much, and her _boyfriend_ would never approve.

Nobody would approve.

Except Luke, who tries not to smile when Jess comes in at a reasonable hour with a bag of books in hand, asking for more hours in the diner because he needs to replenish his savings.

It's official: Rory Gilmore has made his living here a bit more worthwhile.

* * *

A/N: I'm curious - when did you guys get into _Gilmore Girls_? Were you watching it when it first premiered in 2000? Or did you hop on the bandwagon during later seasons? Or maybe you were like me, introduced to it years after it ended?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	53. Just A Boy With A Dream

A/N: This is kind of related to #50…just because I'm using the same artist. It's a prequel of sorts.

Dedicated to **Yuki Sakura-chan** because she loves the Venice Beach gang :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I know, I know, I know_

_That there's a place for me_

_Somewhere out there_

_I know, I know, I know_

_That there's a place for me_

_Somewhere out there_

_- All Time Low_

Just A Boy With A Dream

So Jess has found his estranged father, gotten to know him a bit…now what does he do?

He's sitting in his makeshift room, a book dangling from his grip as he looks out the window to the picturesque, Californian street. It kind of reminds him of Stars Hollow with how postcard-like it is, but in a different way.

"Jess, are you done with that?"

He looks away from the window to stare at ten-year-old Lily, who's straightening her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. Her headlamp is shining in his face.

"Turn that damn thing off!"

Lily glares and says, "Don't you curse at me!"

"Just turn it _off_."

"Say the magic words."

Jess shoots her a death glare and growls a little.

"I'm sorry. I don't communicate in caveman," she retorts, crossing her arms in a somewhat comical manner.

"_Please_ shut it off or I will shut it off _for_ you."

She nods happily and flicks the light off. "There, that's not so hard, is it? Communication is key in life, Jess."

He chooses not to comment again, staring at her pointedly.

She sighs, rolling her eyes. "Are you finished with that?" she asks again, pointing to the book in his hand.

He looks at it, having forgotten he was even holding it. "In an hour I will. But I doubt Sasha would be thrilled with your reading of Hemingway."

"It's _The Old Man and the Sea_, it's not like I'm reading _The Sun Also Rises_."

He shrugs.

She begins to shuffle a bit in place, a telltale sign of her being nervous.

"Anything else?" he inquires.

"It's August," she states suddenly, throwing him off a bit.

"Good job. You're not mentally challenged after all," he says sarcastically.

"What are you doing?" she asks, ignoring his previous statement.

"I retract my last statement."

"_No_, I mean…I have school in three weeks. That's what I'm doing. Going to school. What are you doing?"

Every nerve in his body shuts down; he has _no_ idea how to answer that. In June he tried telling Jimmy what he was going to do, but it just got him high-strung so he put it off.

"Not going to school," Jess says, because that's the only thing he knows for sure.

She sighs, suddenly sounding and looking very much like Sasha. "You've probably been yelled at a lot by everyone about not liking school. And dropping out. So I won't preach to you. But…you should find out what you want to do."

He wants to tell her to fuck off and leave him alone, but she's only ten. And he knows it would make her cry, and as far as he's concerned, he's made enough girls cry lately.

But she is right; he needs to do something. While this stint in Venice Beach has been…educational…he's done staying here. California's too friendly for him and Venice Beach is too confining. He's eighteen, an adult; he can do whatever he wants.

"Who's the author that you and Jimmy both love? Starts with a K," Lily asks.

"Kerouac. You can't read him yet." Whoa, that sounded so…_parental_ of him. What the fuck is going on with him? He needs to leave this state.

"I _know_. But why don't you reread him and maybe you'll get inspired."

"Travel," he blurts out automatically.

She raises an eyebrow. Impressive. "You want to be a bum?"

"No it's…never mind. You won't get it."

"Of course, because I'm ten and don't understand anything."

"It's not that. I know you're smarter than the average…well you're smarter than a lot of people I know in general. But…it's a dumb thing. You're too smart to understand the appeal."

She accepts his response with a nod. "So. You want to go around the country?"

Jess shrugs.

"It fits I guess. Never staying still. You know you can't be in a room for more than an hour? I've noticed. Except when you're reading. But if you're not reading, you're in a different room by the end of the hour. Or you're outside."

"Huh."

"Ugh, the monosyllables. I _hate_ the monosyllables. We have _evolved_ from cavemen. I thought we discussed this."

"Sometimes I'm wondering if I'm talking to an old English professor or a little girl."

She stomps her foot, making Jess laugh, which is a rare feat.

"You can't stay here forever," she says seriously.

"Trust me, this is the last place I want to be in forever. Besides Stars Hollow." He says the last two words with disdain, hating what that town has done to him.

"Do you know of any places where you could stay forever?"

He doesn't know how to properly answer this, because all he can think about is a witty girl with bright blue eyes. And he doesn't want to think about her, because whenever he does, he always feels inadequate.

"When do you start school?" he inquires.

"September first."

"Okay. I'll leave that day."

Her face falls.

"Hey, I thought you wanted me to get off my ass."

"Oh, I do…I'm just going to miss you. That's all," she admits quietly, sounding so young.

He kind of wants to hug her, or comfort her in some way, but he's really terrible at that kind of stuff.

He hands her the book instead. "I've already read it ten times. Take it."

Lily skips over to him and plucks the book out of his hands. "I'll return it tonight!"

He tries to not to smile as he watches her skip out of the room, leaving him alone again.

He looks out the window again, this time vague aspirations and plans forming in his mind. They won't become more substantial than that, but it's a start.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it - I have fun writing Jess in Venice Beach.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	54. To Lay Your Armor Down

A/N: I'm actually not sure if I really like this song or not. Some days I do, others, I find it so incredibly annoying/whiny. But, it inspired me all the same.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_You get one look_

_I'll show you something that the night took_

_A bit too early for my own good_

_Now let's not speak of it again_

_- Dashboard Confessional_

To Lay Your Armor Down

"Hey, Jess, sorry I'm kind of early, but I gave up trying to find something new to watch, so I just got _High Fidelity_ since that's always a good choice. But I also brought –" She stops talking when she sees Jess towel-drying his hair without a shirt on.

She's never seen him shirtless before.

She blushes a rosy pink as she tries to absorb him.

He stops rubbing his head and he stumbles back in surprise. "Shit! Jesus, Rory," he breathes, running a hand through his crazy hair (she really likes his crazy hair).

Shutting the door behind her, she takes a careful few steps to him until she's about a foot away.

Jess swallows at stares at her, sensing her curiosity, and dare he say _lust_.

He drops the towel and allows her full access to his torso, patiently waiting as she observes every inch of revealed skin. With a shaky hand, she reaches out and lightly touches a small scar on the lower right side of his abdomen.

"Appendix?"

He nods. "When I was twelve. Liz didn't believe me, so I walked twenty blocks to the nearest hospital alone. I have yet to experience something more painful than that."

She winces, not wanting to think about a young Jess in pain (she hates the idea of this quietly intense boy not having anyone).

But then she finds another scar on his left side, and it's harsher looking, about three inches long. She runs a finger lightly along it, making him tremble (he's never trembled before).

"Where's this from?" she inquires in a whisper.

"Mugging. As I was running away he nicked me."

Tears fill her eyes. "I wouldn't really call this a _nicking_."

He shrugs. "I'm fine."

She lowers her hand to his right hip and brings her other hand to rest on his left one. Bringing him close to her, she rests her head on his strong chest, breathing in his smell that's so hard to describe, but it's Jess. It's even more potent in his skin.

He wraps his arms around her tightly, breathing in and out slowly through his nose. But when she kisses his chest, right where his heart is, he loses his breath.

"Do you have any other scars?" she murmurs into his skin.

He exhales shakily. "Yeah."

She pulls away from him to look at his face. She lifts a hand to cup his cheek. "Where?"

He lets go of her and offers his right palm to her. She notices two white dots on his index finger. "Mike Santini ran into me, and I accidentally stapled my finger when I was nine."

She thinks about kissing the scar, like they do in the movies, but she knows if she does that, he'll stop talking to her (he'd never forgive her for trying to be cinematic).

Instead, she examines the rest of his hand, which is calloused, but extremely warm (of course she knows that without having looked – she can always feel them, even when they're apart).

"Is that it?"

He looks conflicted for a moment, but then he lifts his head and turns to the left, so the right side of his neck is more exposed to the light. She can see a faint white line.

Her throat closes up. "From…" she tries to speak but can't. She wants to know if it's from that same mugging.

Seeming to read her mine, he says, "Yeah," in a barely audible voice.

Without thought, she brings her hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a rough kiss. It takes him a few seconds to respond, but eventually he grips her hips and pushes his body flush against hers.

Of course, it doesn't last long, because they can hear Luke's telltale stomping up the stairs on the other side of the door.

She pulls away reluctantly, letting him go to his drawers so he can find a shirt to quickly pull on. Just as he's pulling down his Clash shirt over his stomach, Luke comes in, quickly searching the apartment.

Luke points to the forgotten towel on the floor. "Pick that up," he tells Jess. "Hi, Rory."

Rory smiles, hoping she doesn't look as flustered as she feels. "Hi, Luke."

Luke looks at them both for a few seconds before saying, "I'll be right downstairs."

"We know, Uncle Luke," Jess drawls, rolling his eyes.

Luke narrows his. "I'm serious. This apartment isn't your personal laundry dump. And…other things."

Jess crosses his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows at Luke, who's now flushing.

Luke exhales noisily, shooting Jess a warning look, before closing the door, leaving the two alone again.

Rory runs her tongue over her swollen bottom lip. "So…want to start the movie?" she asks, feeling a bit awkward.

He walks over to her and pulls her close to his side in a half hug. "What's the other movie you brought?"

"Oh, uh, _The Big Lebowski_."

When they plop themselves onto the leather couch, she looks over at the towel that's still on the ground. "Aren't you going to put that away?"

He smirks at her. "Nope."

And he's back to being normal. But after she puts away the towel for him (she doesn't want Luke to kill himself out of annoyance for his nephew – he does make the best coffee around), and halfway through the movie (they decided on _High Fidelity_), he kisses her fondly on the temple.

She hides her dopey smile into his chest (which is fine, because he doesn't want to see the content smile on his face).

* * *

A/N: Ah, happy Jess/Rory times. Wouldn't it have been great to see more of that? Ah well, that's what fanfiction is for, I suppose.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	55. Time And Time Again

A/N: **luvtheheaven **sent me this great HP video with the acoustic version of "Times Like These" by Foo Fighters, and it inspired me. I highly recommend that version – it's more poignant.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_It's times like these you learn to live again_

_It's times like these you give and give again_

_It's times like these you learn to love again_

_- Foo Fighters_

Time And Time Again

**I, I'm a one-way motorway;**

**I'm the road that drives away,**

**Follows you back home.**

Sometimes Jess wonders what it would've been like if he and Rory didn't ever cross paths. They both had one-way tickets: she was on the road to bigger and better things, and he…well…he wasn't going anywhere.

He doesn't know why he ever expected her to exchange her ticket; maybe it was just because he tore his up, stuck his middle finger to the world, thinking he wouldn't be lost forever.

It'll take a while for him to realize how hard it really is to deviate from the set path, because, usually, for better or worse, it doesn't change. And it takes him just as long to realize that it's not a good idea for him to keep following her back – it's like going the wrong way on a one-way street.

They have to keep moving forward, even though forces keep bringing them together, crossing their paths, reminding them of the past when their roads were one.

**I, I'm a streetlight shining;**

**I'm a white light blinding bright,**

**Burning off alone.**

Rory knows this town stifles the potential of Jess Mariano. But she sees it whenever they're alone, especially when they travel outside Stars Hollow's borders. There's something in his dark eyes that shines bright; he's so passionate. She wishes she could feel so strongly about certain things.

When he leaves, she realizes that she was passionate about him. And them. But it doesn't matter, because his inner light was always brighter than hers – she fed off his, and now that's he's gone, she feels like she's slowly fading.

And the few times he comes back, she's blinded by him, having gotten used to the general darkness of everything else, so when he suddenly leaves again, she feels disoriented, she can't see clearly.

She's always had this problem of closely associating with people whose inner brightness outshine hers (Lorelai, Jess, Logan), but when she watches Logan walk away at her graduation, she doesn't feel like she's being snuffed out like a candle; she continues to flicker, and she knows that it'll burn brightly once again.

She's aware that nobody, except one, will ever have the power of blowing out her inner light.

**I, I'm a new day rising;**

**I'm a brand new sky to hang**

**The stars upon tonight.**

When she sees him for the first time in over a year, she feels like she's looking at a different person. But he's still familiar, too. When he hands her his (his!) book, she recognizes him from the too few and too far between moments when they would lie together on Luke's couch, or sit on the deserted bridge, the stars illuminating the rare vulnerability in his face.

For the first time, she feels inadequate, and it's the most unsettling thing she's ever experienced. She wonders if Jess always felt this way around her.

Now she doesn't quite blame him as much for leaving; she almost wishes he wouldn't come back tomorrow.

But he does, because he's New And Improved Jess. It's disconcerting that she can't find anything negative to pin on him, which is a terrible thing to think, but she feels like she can't keep up the charade otherwise.

Logan's semi-drunken arrival makes everything worse.

And then Jess leaves again. He was like a breath of fresh air, and it finally wakes her up, but he walks away, taking away his light with him. But instead of feeling that disorienting sense of devastation, she feels something inside her spark. It's been so long since she felt anything like that, and she goes along with it for as long as it burns inside her.

As she cleans out her belongings at her grandparents' house, she looks out the window at the stars, and thinks that tonight is glorious.

**I, I'm a little divided;**

**Should I stay or run away,**

**Leave it all behind?**

It hasn't gone away, after all this time. This division within himself – one part wants him to get the fuck _over_ it and move on, and the other part…

_This should feel old_, Jess thinks to himself somewhat angrily as he kisses her, but it doesn't. He thought that if they kiss, then _maybe_ he'd snap out of it, realizing that she's not the same girl from three years ago.

But maybe, just maybe, when he was seventeen, he saw something in her, her potential, and loved that part of her just as much as who she was back then.

Huh, they have more in common than he ever thought.

Of course, she's not the person she could be, not yet, but she will be eventually. And then maybe she'll realize the same thing he did.

He keeps that small hope alive in him as he watches her walk away – the circle is now complete. After all, didn't this all hurt begin when she did a Kiss-And-Run? Now they can start somewhat fresh – it'll probably happen after she's graduated (perhaps she'll go through Philly), and then they can finally _be_.

So, should he just close the book on this? Go along with his new life and just appreciate her old, inner light from old memories?

He smirks as he's out drinking with his friends (since when did he have those?). Long ago he stepped off his expected road and started treading on something else completely; he can't go back now. Besides, he thinks he's finally getting the hang of this; it always happens, time and time again.

* * *

A/N: Just letting you all know, I'm going to be on vacation for a week, so I won't be updating until the beginning of July.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	56. And I'm Free, Free Fallin'

A/N: I've always loved this song (and let's be honest, who doesn't love this song), and when The Almost did an amazing cover of it, the wheels in my head began to turn, which is never a good sign (it usually means that I will be avoiding work/responsibilities in order to write).

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I wanna free fall out into nothin'_

_Gonna leave this world for awhile_

_– Tom Petty_

And I'm Free, Free Fallin'

When Jess Mariano was ten-years-old, he promised himself that he would _never _lose control of himself. Having put up with and taken care of Liz almost everyday, he subconsciously decided that he wasn't going to put anyone in his position.

He didn't want anyone to take care of himself; he doesn't _trust_ anyone enough to do that.

Frankly, Liz should be fucking _grateful_ that she has a son who was willing to put up with her shit, and didn't just leave her in every bar, or every strange man's apartment she ended up stranded at.

He never had anyone look after him. And knowing his rotten luck, he never would.

So he was always in control. Of everything. In New York, he always had his wits together, never drinking enough to get hammered, never taking a hit of weed, and never touching the harder things. Despite what Luke probably believes, Jess never did anything resembling his _mother_.

But here he is in Venice Beach, California, sitting out on his estranged father's hammock behind his house, holding an unlit joint between his fingers.

Jess knows that Jimmy and Sasha smoke every once in while whenever Lily stays at a friend's house. One awkward night a week after Jess officially took temporary residence at Jimmy's house, Jimmy confronted his son with his awkward shuffle, asking if he was maybe interested in…_you know…_

Jess, obviously, shut him down, finding so many things wrong with that possible situation.

But he can't deny his curiosity. After all, there has to be a reason why Liz is such a pothead. That's how Jimmy and Liz met, after all – he generously shared his joint at one party, and the rest is history.

He swings in the hammock, a book lying abandoned over his lap as he gazes at the sky, the setting sun leaving the sky with a myriad of colors. More than anything, he just wants to not think, but he can't help it; his mind is running a million miles a minute, like always.

He's become quite the insomniac during his stay in Venice Beach.

Jess is beginning to get nervous again. He doesn't quite know why, it's not like he's going back to school in a few weeks like Lily, but he has this nagging feeling like he has to start something, go somewhere.

He eyes the joint again before sticking his hand into his pocket and pulling out a lighter. Fuck it all.

Burning the end, his nose fills with that awful smell that brings up less than pleasant memories in New York, but he focuses on the present, flicking the lid of the lighter closed and stuffing it into his pocket.

Sighing, he stares at the smoke floating into the sky before grimacing. "Fuck," he mutters before bringing the joint between his lips and inhaling.

Despite never having smoked pot, he's very knowledgeable on the subject. For example, he knows he won't get high off the first hit, and he'll have to space it out over time if he wanted to feel anything. So he's patient, waiting ten minutes or so before inhaling again.

The burn in his lungs is pretty familiar, but it's not as bad as it was smoking a cigarette for the first time. At this point he's beginning to feel a bit dizzy, so he waits longer to do it again.

Now he's beginning to feel something.

Everything seems more muffled; the dogs' sharp barks don't seem as annoying as they usually are and he can't hear the crickets as much. The colors of the sky seem more beautiful, and he feels kind of inspired to talk about how it moves him, which is just disgusting. But right now he doesn't _care_.

It's a wonderful feeling, really.

He rocks slowly on the hammock. Back and forth, back and forth; it's lulling him into a somewhat sleepy state of consciousness. He's never felt so relaxed before, his muscles completely loose.

He considers going inside, bringing the portable stereo outside so he could listen to music. Slowly going through his albums in his head, he mentally bookmarks bands such as Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd…even Jimi Hendrix, whom he doesn't particularly care for, but he seems perfect to listen to right now.

But the fact of the matter is that he's too goddamn comfortable to even _think_ about actually moving from the hammock.

So he just plays _Dark Side of the Moon_ in his head, knowing every lyric, bang, and ring by heart.

He exhales slowly, feeling his mind slip further away from reality, and frankly, he needs this. He's been thinking too much, and it's been killing him.

He takes one more hit.

For just one night, he doesn't want to feel that gnawing sense of guilt whenever Rory crosses his mind, and he doesn't want to think about his impending future. Now, he just wants to go to a place in his mind that he could never go otherwise, and feel some sort of peace, even if it's artificial and short-lived.

It's better than the alternative.

With this last coherent thought, he closes his eyes and allows this strange disconnectedness from the world (or is he really connecting with everything?) to take him away.

* * *

A/N: I hope this was alright…I have never smoked, and don't feel any desire to, so I relied on friends' explanations and observations.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	57. So Close, So Far, So Long

A/N: Love Bryan Greenberg :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_As the states rolled by_

_It's all so clear_

_I'm everywhere but never right here_

_It's always the same_

_A constant change_

_But I'll come back to you someday_

_- Bryan Greenberg_

So Close, So Far, So Long

As he's on this bus, he's passing through states where books took place, where characters traveled through, and he's imagining them all: he can see Sal sauntering through Chicago, and he can see the Joads trudging through the dustbowls of Oklahoma.

Funny, they were all running to California, too.

Sometimes he wishes he were just a fictional character, created from the depths of a genius' mind. Live on forever, limited to the pages of a book and the imagination of millions of people.

It's a hell of a lot easier than actually living life.

Not that he's giving up on anything. On the contrary, he's determined, and he knows that his determination gets him pretty far with more than good results.

So when he says to himself that one day he'll see Rory again, he knows it'll take a lot of work on his part, and maybe he won't see her for years, but it will happen, as long as he's still Jess Mariano, anti-social and extremely stubborn.

He's starting to see signs for California, and he knows once he steps off this bus, it'll be official: So long, Rory Gilmore, I hope you do well and I hope to see you soon.

It's strange the think, but this is the farthest he's ever been away from her. Since he was living in the city, and she was always at Stars Hollow, technically, they were always, at the most, about two hours apart. Now they're a six-hour plane-ride (or an extremely long bus-ride) away.

But she's close to him in a foreign way; she's always in his thoughts.

The bus rolls to a stop, and his breathing is unsteady. This is it.

Gripping his bag, he walks down the isle, and right as he's stepping off, he closes his eyes.

* * *

A/N: 300-word count!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	58. What It Takes

A/N: I really don't like the regular version of the song "Tell Me Where You Are" by Hit the Lights, but the acoustic one is very good, which features Lacey Steinel (The Best Week Ever). This will be done in two parts, and there are two verses that are sung at the same time in this song: this particular verse is sung by the front man of Hit the Lights.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Waiting for you to come home,_

_For word you're not gone._

_I'm praying that you answer when I ask you, _

_That you'll answer when I ask you,_

_To tell me where you are_

_– Hit the Lights_

What It Takes

Rory thinks the reason why she wasn't more upset about Jess leaving was because it didn't feel real, that any day he would come sauntering through the diner, Luke nagging him about coming to his shifts on time. But at the same time, his leaving felt like such a clean cut – it was just time for him to go.

It was dangerous ways of thinking, which ruined her for a year; a "dry spell," as Paris so fittingly called it. She had "TAKEN" written on her forehead.

She thinks it never completely washed off, even with Logan.

To be completely honest, somewhere in he back of her mind, she's always been shamefully waiting.

Sometimes during class, he crosses through her mind. She wonders where he is, what he's doing. It used to hurt, but nowadays the concern is so a part of her that it doesn't shake her anymore.

It's all very private, and she feels like he isolated her a bit. By being in her thoughts, and having been so close to him at some point, some of his nature clung to her. And he's always been one to drive people away.

It has to be an attractive quality, because Logan came after her (eventually – she had to do a lot of work to get him to consider).

They're kind of similar in a way, Jess and Logan. Both very intelligent, well read, have a penchant for disregarding the rules, and love the idea of leading Rory by the hand.

But they couldn't be more different: Logan's clothes are designer, Jess' from Salvation Army; Logan wouldn't be caught dead reading a book, while Jess wouldn't be caught dead without one; Logan is loud and charismatic, Jess is quiet and alluring.

Logan never broke her, Jess had, multiple times.

It's amazing, how one person can affect you. And half the time, she feels like he isn't even real, never knowing where he is.

His surprise visits only add to the mystery of it all. He fades in and out of her life, like an apparition.

It's hard to remember a time when she could walk a few doors down and see him.

She wishes he were a bigger part of her life, more prominent. But she's in no position to make demands from him, because she's now aware of how awful she was to him. How does he manage to bring out the best and worst in her?

It's strange, she's just used to it being one way or the other.

But she's never really satisfied that way, is she?

She rejects Logan, because eventually, down the line, she'll look back on her life and wonder. Just…wonder.

If there's one thing she's learned is that it takes so much for relationships to work, and sometimes, after a certain point, they're not worth it. It takes a lot of thought and wisdom to recognize which ones you should hold onto tightly, and do whatever it takes to keep him close.

When she's on the West Coast on the campaign trail, she recalls Jess running here when he was eighteen. It took her a few days to learn where he ran off to, and before then, she remembers racking her brain, trying to figure out where the hell he'd gone.

It took her way too long to realize that sometimes she's just never going to know, and that she's going to have to live with that.

The road to acceptance is long and difficult.

Now she's the one traveling, and he's the stable one, tied to just one location. The irony doesn't escape her; she swears that this particular aspect of her love life could be a beach read.

She buys three postcards from every place she stays: one is sent to her mom, one is kept for herself, and the other…

She thinks about sending him one every once in a while. Notably places where Kerouac has been, but she never does. Why would he be interested in where she is? It's not like he would ever harbor the same secret obsession she had five years ago.

To pacify her gnawing sense of cowardice, which she hates so much (it's just _Jess_! (_but that's just it, isn't it?_)), she writes an e-mail to him and saves it to her Drafts folder; she'll send it when she gets closer to Philly.

Her hand tremors the slightest bit when she clicks the "Send" button a few weeks later, but two days after that, her heart soars when she gets a positive response.

Maybe now, years later, they finally have what it takes to make it work.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter will be in Jess' POV (and it's to the lyrics that Steinel sings…haha, funny how I switched genders…).

Please review!

MissGoalie


	59. It's Never Far Enough

A/N: Companion piece to the previous one. These lyrics are actually sung at the same time as the lyrics in the last oneshot.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Don't hold your breath,_

_I'm not coming back,_

_I'm already gone._

_After all we had,_

_If you have to ask,_

_You already know,_

_You already know._

_- Hit the Lights (Lacey Steinel)_

It's Never Far Enough

Jess seriously underestimated how much he'd miss Rory. The farther he gets, the greater the feelings of nausea, guilt, and regret fill his stomach, making him sick.

At the next stop, he rushes off the bus to vomit before getting back on.

Every once in a while he'll dry-heave, but he knows there's nothing left in him.

When he gets off for the final time in California, he ends up calling her (multiple times) just to hear her voice; it numbs the pain temporarily.

He never thought how excruciating this would be for him, being so far away from her.

For a few months, he tries to stay away, he really does; he doesn't want to involve her in his fucked up life. But then Liz presents him with an opportunity, a chance of fate that he can't ignore, so he goes back, knowing full well that he'd see her because she's always where she's supposed to be.

He finds himself face-to-face with her for the first time in a while and he can read her too well: she's angry with him, yes, but there's something painful in her too-blue eyes that he can't relieve her of.

After everything he's done to her, a part of her still wants him.

But she's not looking past her own pains and desires; she can't see that he just _can't_ stay here. It doesn't matter how much he loves her.

He wants to believe that she knows him inside and out; that she can pick his brain and recognize every emotion and thought that flits through his subconscious. But time after time, he's let down. Maybe he's not as easy to read as he thinks he is, or maybe she's just not as perceptive as he wants her to be.

After all, there are very few people in this world who are as discerning as he is.

Once he comes to this burning realization that she doesn't get him (enough), he decides to do something completely unexpected: leave New York. When he sees her in Hartford, he lies that rent has gotten expensive, but really, he had to prove to himself that there was_ no_ way she could completely understand him.

She never would've thought he would settle down, especially in a place that wasn't New York.

So he picks Philadelphia, because it's an up-and-coming city, and he finds himself to fit in quite nicely. He becomes the man she always saw in him, and a little bit of hope kindles inside; she already knew what he was capable of.

But to be honest, despite not getting him enough, she still understood him better than anyone else in his life.

Now it's his turn to not understand her: she's seeing the kind of person that he despises, but can scarily see a part of himself in. It's almost like looking at an alternate universe version of himself: if he grew up with money and parents that provided opportunities for their child; never quite growing up to a proper adult, at least in a different way.

Jess was forced to grow up too quickly, while this asshole is Peter Pan, never wanting to grow up.

Eventually he leaves her because while he loves being close to Rory, he can't stand this side of her. He hopes she manages to find herself again; that would be most tragic, wouldn't it? He manages to grow into himself at the same time she loses herself.

There are one-hundred-and-eighty miles between Philadelphia and Hartford. It's a lot more than the twenty-two-point-eight miles between Stars Hollow and New Haven, but it's a lot less than two-thousand-eight-hundred-and-something miles between Stars Hollow and Venice Beach.

There's a safe distance between them now: they're close enough to warrant visits (he tries to block her coming to Truncheon from his thoughts), but far enough to convince himself that he can't get involved in her life anymore. Some days he wishes he were closer, others he thinks he should've stayed in California.

But those bad days are farther and fewer between now; maybe this means he's moving on. And when he gets an e-mail from her, asking to meet up for coffee when she passes through Philly, he actually smiles; this will be a fresh start for the both of them.

The miles between them are decreasing as she makes her way through the country to Pennsylvania, lowering from the thousands, to the hundreds, to the dozens. Eventually they'll be within a few feet of each other.

However, in the back of his mind, always, he waits for the day when they'll be within a foot of each other again.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. Just out of curiosity, would a lot of you not like it if I were to post a oneshot in this collection that was about 11 pages? It's substantially longer than all of these, which are between 1-3 pages normally. You let me know!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	60. Ignited

A/N: I feel slightly awkward about this, but this is my first _kind of_ M-rated piece of writing. So you have been warned. This is set sometime between 3x14-3x17.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_The stars in your eyes light up the sky with thoughts, light and fire and sound_

_(Do you feel alive? (Imagine, Imagine))_

_- Angels & Airwaves_

Ignited

Rory honestly expected to have a quiet Saturday night: Lorelai was going out with Sookie, Luke was going on another fishing trip, and Jess had an opening at work that could earn him time and a half. So here she is, in her sweats organizing note cards for an upcoming exam.

She certainly didn't expect to see Jess tapping outside her window.

She jumps in surprise at the noise and then playfully glares at him. "You could've killed me!" she exclaims as she gets off her bed to go to the window.

"Thought I'd surprise you."

"Don't you have work? Time and a half?"

He shrugs. "I lied."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course."

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired of having Luke or Lorelai busting in on us every ten minutes."

She sighs. It _is_ getting annoying. _Really_ annoying. "I see your point."

"But _now_…we have the _entire_ night…" he trails off suggestively.

Her throat tightens.

"So…you gonna let me in? I'm freezing my ass off."

"Oh! Of course." She unhitches the window and he quickly lifts himself through, and before she can even register what's happening, he's kissing her in the way that makes her knees tremble.

Despite his freezing hands, she feels warmth pooling into her abdomen as he leads her to her bed. Too fast, _way_ too fast, but it's _so_ slow…

"Jess…" she breathes as soon as his lips move from her mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck.

He releases a sound from the back of his throat that is pure masculine pleasure, but he's also acknowledging her.

She moans. "I'm…serious…stop."

He pauses what he's doing before he leaves one last kiss on her pulse point and lifts his head to look into her eyes. She has to hand it to him; every time she felt uncomfortable or told him to stop for any other reason, he always obeyed without having to be told twice.

Her stomach then growls, making her flush and him chuckle. "Hungry?" he asks.

She nods. "Yeah. I was going to order from Luke's. But I'll order from Al's instead now that you're here. Did you eat?"

"Nope. Go order."

She kisses him briefly. "We're putting a bookmark here."

"I doggy-eared the page already," he quips, somewhat mocking.

She pushes him away and grins. "You know I hate that!"

He smirks as he watches her leave the bedroom, noting the way her hips sway.

* * *

They eat in silence, and Rory's far more anxious than she usually is. She knows that tonight is going to be different from others. Glancing across the table, she watches Jess eat, fascinated by the way his jaw clenches and flexes.

Apparently sensing her gaze, he lifts his eyes, his brow furrowed a bit in confusion. She blushes, which always makes him grin.

Long ago, he stopped asking her why he catches her staring at him. She's thankful for that, because she always had to make up some excuse. She supposes that maybe he kind of understands why, because sometimes she catches him staring at her.

Once they finish eating (she having eaten less than normally would have), she puts the (very few) leftovers away.

Suddenly she remembers the triple chocolate fudge ice cream Lorelai had purchased two days ago.

"Want some?" Rory asks, pulling out the carton of ice cream. "I know you only eat it in cones, and we, unfortunately, don't have any…but my mom swears by this. Apparently it's heaven on earth," she rambles as she takes out two plastic spoons from a drawer. "Just this once?" She wonders why she's trying to prevent this from happening – she has to be _crazy_! But she can't help it; her hand gripping the spoons is trembling slightly.

He plucks the utensil from her grip. "I suppose I'll make an exception _just this once_. You can't tell anyone. I'll lose my street cred."

"Right…because the lurkers on Peach Street were already questioning your bad boy status," Rory says sarcastically, taking the first spoonful out of the carton. Her mother was right, this _is_ wonderful.

Jess follows suit and takes a spoonful. "Your mom has good taste," he admits.

She bites her bottom lip, wanting to prevent a sad sigh from escaping. Those two have a lot in common, and would get along. But she dropped that discussion long ago, knowing it never goes anywhere.

They eat in silence once more for a few minutes until she begins to feel chilly, goosebumps scattering up her arms.

"Done?"

She nods, about to stand up and put it away, but Jess beats her to it.

"Thanks."

He puts the ice cream back in the freezer and throws out the spoons. Once he finishes, he leans back against the counter, his hands gripping it on either side of it. His forearms fascinate her, and how the tendons ripple under his olive skin is one of the most beautiful things she's ever seen.

She dry-swallows.

He notices her change in emotion and his eyes darken until she can't see the green and gold flecks in his eyes anymore. She slowly stands up from her chair, careful to make sure it doesn't scrape against the floor.

He lightly pushes himself off the counter and slowly closes the space between them, lacing his fingers with hers and they go back to her bedroom. She's never experienced this kind of strange, silent tension before, and it's making her breath shaky as she looks into his dark eyes.

"I…don't want to do…_that_ tonight," she starts in a quiet voice.

He nods. "Okay."

"But…I want to…" she trails off, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

He stares at her intensely for a moment, and she hopes he can maybe read into her mind. She still _wants_ him, but she's just too scared to make that final destination.

He nods, and she's afraid, yet hopeful, that he heard her thoughts.

"You trust me?" he simply asks.

"Yes," she replies without hesitation.

"Come here," he says, cradling her face in his hands as he kisses her gently, almost chaste.

But then he changes the tempo of the kiss, and they're back to being passionate, as if they had never stopped before.

It's different this time. There's no sense of restraint, and it's thrilling. The hands on the back of his head grip his crazy locks tighter as she presses her body into his, making him emit a low, masculine noise.

She tries not to whimper.

Somehow, she's on her back, with his lovely weight pinning her down. He pulls away from her to look into her eyes. Slowly, the hands that were resting on her hips start to take hold of the waistband of her sweatpants.

Her breath hitches in her throat, but she allows him to slide them down. She's rather grateful that she subconsciously decided to wear a nice pair of underwear.

She hears him chuckle a bit, and it causes her to open her eyes to see him smiling at her. "Did you plan this?"

"What?"

"Your socks. They match your underwear."

Rory looks down at her underwear, and then lifts her leg to see that both have blue polka dots on them. She flushes. "No. I didn't."

"Sure."

"I swear! I woke up this morning, half-dead, mind you, and I rushed to school."

He nods. "Okay." He still has a mocking smirk on his face. But then it changes into his mischievous one. "Does your bra match?"

She flushes to a darker shade of red. "No."

His hands move from her sweatpants to her shirt. "Care to prove that?"

She squirms uncomfortably. "It's light blue," she mumbles.

He grins. "So it _does_ match."

"I didn't plan the socks!"

He looks at her with a softer grin, and his eyes take her breath away. He's been giving her this look lately that scares her, but it makes her feel…

His fingers slip down from the edge of her shirt to touch her underwear and he says, "Last chance."

Exhaling shakily she nods. He hovers over her and kisses her gently, a hand stroking her cheek. "You're going to like it, trust me." They begin kissing again and she forgets about everything else.

Quicker than usual, her hands swiftly begin to unbutton his shirt, and she has to hold back her groan of frustration, seeing a wife-beater underneath.

Jess pulls away to slip his shirt off, a smirk on his face.

"Get that smirk off your face, Jess Mariano," she demands breathlessly. "Along with that shirt."

His smirk broadens. "As you wish."

As soon as the shirt leaves his hold, she grabs the back of his neck and pulls him roughly down on top of her, kissing him.

His hand tantalizingly moves from her face, to her neck, and she moans when he briefly feels her chest, then slides down her ribs to her stomach. Unwittingly, legs spread apart, wanting something she had only read about in books. _She wants him there_.

He gently cups her and she wants to drive herself into him.

The next few minutes are very strange, and at first she feels uncomfortable, but soon she allows herself to be taken away by his intimate touches. And eventually, something builds inside her, a foreign pressure, but it comes to a peak, and he stops kissing her in this moment to look at her.

Her cries get lodged in her throat, and she doesn't emit a noise as more pleasure than she ever felt in her life rushes through her tense body. Eventually, her muscles relax, and she exhales, her strength having left her.

He smiles at her. "So?"

She tries to laugh, but it comes out kind of weak. "Um..." She closes her eyes, trying to catch her breath. "Different."

"Good different?"

"Yes, very much. It's just…not what I expected."

He nods. "Movies and books tend to make it more than it really is, but it doesn't stop it from being…good."

Feeling self-conscious, she lifts her hips in order to slip up her underwear. She winces when the cotton rubs her the wrong way.

"Do you want to…wash your hand?" she offers, feeling her already flush cheeks darken.

He grins, and she knows he's thinking about making a lewd comment, but he pecks her on the forehead before leaving her. After a minute, he comes back in, his hands in his pockets.

She lifts herself from the bed, having put on her sweatpants when he was away. They stare at each other for a moment. He flashes her a smile before continuing to gaze at her.

Suddenly feeling a rush of _something_ (is it resembling love?) towards him, she gets up from the bed and (awkwardly) walks over to him so they're standing a foot part. She reaches for the belt on his pants, but his hands are quick to stop hers.

"You don't have to," he tells her, his voice a deep whisper.

She nods. "Move your hands. And…maybe sit down."

He smirks, slowly strolling past her and sitting down on her bed.

She wrings her hands together for a moment. "I've never done anything like this before," she admits.

The corner of his mouth quirks up a little. "I figured."

"So…you're going to have to…teach me. And…I apologize in advance for doing anything stupid."

"Gilmore, relax."

She smiles before going over and straddling him. When she meets him, she gasps, still very sensitive.

He smirks again.

She lightly hits him.

"Sorry," he says, but she knows he's not sorry one bit.

She wraps her arms around his neck, just staring at him for a moment. This is it, she thinks. The words are on the tip of her tongue, those three little words that never felt more real in her life. Her lips part and she's gathering her courage…

The front door opens and shuts.

Rory freezes, her brain immediately shutting down. _What is her mom doing here so early_?

Jess must be thinking the same thing, but his mind works quicker than hers because he lifts her off his lap and begins to pick up his discarded shirts.

"OI! LOINFRUIT! I'm back early! So I'm saving you from your awful studying in order to watch ridiculous movies and eat that triple chocolate fudge ice cream, which I've been craving for all night," they can hear Lorelai rant as she hangs up her coat, tosses her house keys by the phone, and takes off her shoes.

Rory brings a hand to her mouth in horror.

Jess has put on his undershirt and slipped on his button up as he quickly kisses her on the cheek before stealthily escaping through the window.

"Rory?" Lorelai calls.

Rory lets out a sight of relief before walking over to her doorway just when Lorelai is about to enter the bedroom.

"Hi," Rory says, sounding out of breath.

Lorelai's eyes narrow with a mix between confusion and suspicion. "Hi," she drawls, looking over Rory's shoulder.

Apparently seeing nothing noteworthy, Lorelai stares at her daughter, making her shift uncomfortably.

"Are you hot? Sick?" Lorelai asks, bringing her hand to Rory's forehead. "You look flushed."

"I'm fine."

But Lorelai doesn't quite believe her.

"Sorry, I ate a bit of the ice cream," Rory blurts, hoping to distract Lorelai.

"I hope you didn't eat too much, missy!"

Rory lets out a breath of relief as Lorelai makes her way to the kitchen. All she has to do is get through an hour or two, and then she can maybe call Jess.

"Uh…honey?" Lorelai calls from the kitchen, and Rory automatically knows why she sounds so distressed.

Jess' leather jacket is on the back of one of the wooden chairs.

Rory bites her bottom lip.

Lorelai walks out of the kitchen, holding up Jess' jacket between two fingers. "Jess was here," she states rather than questions.

Rory closes her eyes, and she knows that shit is going to hit the fan.

Lorelai stomps over to her. "You guys didn't –" Lorelai starts before Rory interrupts her.

"No, _no_. Of course not."

Lorelai lets out a loud sigh of relief. "Thank _God_." But then she tenses. "But something _happened_," she adds accusingly, pointedly staring at her enflamed cheeks and her awkward stance.

Rory feels her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She really doesn't want to talk about this right now.

"We…" Rory starts, but can't finish her sentence.

"Oh…OH!"

Rory squeezes her eyes shut, biting back a groan.

For once, both Gilmore girls are speechless.

"Mom…I can't do this right now. I really can't," Rory tells her with desperation.

Lorelai, still looking gob smacked, tries to say something, but just ends up opening and closing her mouth multiple times.

Rory has never wanted the ground to swallow her up more.

"Okay, um…right. So…we'll talk, tomorrow. No excuses, and…sleep well," Lorelai manages to stutter.

Rory sighs thankfully, finding this situation incredibly strange and awkward. "Perfect. See you in the morning."

As soon as Lorelai nearly trips up the stairs (she kept glancing back at Rory), Rory flees into her room and shuts the door.

After a few minutes of Rory silently screaming into her pillow in humiliation, she finally gathers her nerve to call Jess.

"_Hey._"

"Hey," she says as calmly as she can. "You left your jacket here."

Jess sighs. "_I know. Sorry about that_."

"It's okay. I forgot about it, too."

Silence.

"I'll bring it to the diner tomorrow," she tells him.

"_Okay._"

Rory runs her tongue over her bottom lip. "I'm sorry," she blurts out. "That was…bad timing."

Jess laughs. "_Yeah, you could say that. Some would call it a cock block. But that is a parental guardian's job._"

"Well…there's always next time." She flushes.

Rory can picture Jess smiling that extraordinary smile he only gives to her.

"_You're a quiet one_."

"Do you know me?"

"_No, I mean…earlier. It was a bit surprising, actually._"

She flushes. "Was I supposed to make noise? Like in the movies?"

"_No. Those always sound fake._"

"So I'm not abnormal?"

Jess chuckles. "_Relax, Gilmore. It's different for everyone._"

"Then I bet you're _very_ loud," she states boldly.

He laughs loudly, which is very rare, but it pleases her to hear it. "You'll have to find that out for yourself on a later date."

Rory grins. "Okay. Well…I should go. I'm tired. And stop smirking because I _know_ you're doing it right now!"

"_You know me too well. Goodnight, Rory._"

"'Night, Jess."

She hangs up, and she gets a giddy feeling in her stomach. She doesn't know how he does it, but he sparks something in her, and she can't say she hates it…

Oh, whom is she kidding?

* * *

A/N: I hope this was somewhat decent. I feel like it's a load of crap since I'm not comfortable writing anything physical (I usually avoid it like the plague!), but you're the judges. Let me know your thoughts! And be gentle with me!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	61. They're Only Words

A/N: I think there's a Literati songfic out there that uses this song (I don't read songfics, but I remember clicking on it because of the title), and it's a very fitting song for them.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Let's talk about spaceships,_

_Or anything except you and me, okay?_

_– Say Hi To Your Mom_

They're Only Words

When Rory Gilmore met Jess Mariano, she came to a realization that would seem blasphemous to her mother: talking, sometimes, is overrated.

While she still babbles a mile (or two) a minute, she finds herself enjoying the calm silence with him, never finding it awkward or unsettling.

One day, while driving to a Friday Night Dinner, Lorelai asks Rory if they even _talk_; it seems every time Lorelai sees the two, they're either reading in silence or they're doing inappropriate things with their mouths.

Rory merely shrugs. "The verbal thing comes and goes," she answers with a secret smile on her face that Lorelai doesn't understand.

To be completely honest, Rory doesn't understand it either. Communication is supposed to be the key in relationships, right? But they don't always communicate in the traditional way, especially Jess. If he's angry or upset, he clams up, and all Rory can do is sit closely by him.

And even if he does speak, she has to sift through hundreds of layers of subtext; sometimes it's just too much work for her.

Maybe that's why it all fell apart.

She wishes they could talk more, because when on the rare occasion he _does_ say exactly what he means to say, something beautiful happens; she doesn't think she'll feel this with anyone else (and she doesn't want to).

When he's gone, she physically pains for him, which is such a cliché. She finds herself _craving_ to talk to him, missing him more than she'll ever admit to anyone. It's stupid, really.

Right? How could she miss talking to a boy who barely even_ says anything back_?

She thinks about the softening of his eyes when he hears her concerned ranting about getting into Yale and his safe hand on her lower back whenever they walk through the streets of Hartford together. She thinks about his knowing smirk whenever he gives her a book that's been on her list for the past two months and the way he scoots over so there's more room for her on his bed when they read together.

Tears roll down her cheeks at night because she feels like she didn't pay enough attention to him; he knows her inside and out, when she can barely comprehend a thing about him.

It's weird to think about, but everyone who knows her well is in her life, reachable. Everyone except him; he's out there, doing god knows what, and she thinks that there has to be subconscious part of him that thinks: Oh, Rory would probably like this store, or Rory would probably hate this coffee. Right?

She kind of hopes so – she wants to be a burden to him like he is to her.

Is she a terrible person to think that way? She has to be. It's not like it wouldn't be the first time his actions have caused the nastiness within her to bubble to the surface.

She thinks about Shane and she half-considers seeking her out to apologize, but it turns out Shane left Stars Hollow as soon as she graduated. Rory's rather glad – she doesn't think she could handle a _heart-to-heart_ with her.

Rory wonders whether she was always capable of being cruel, or if Jess helped manifest it. She tries to believe that it was all Jess' doing, but in the end, as she's crying about _sleeping with a married man_, she knows it's not his fault.

All he ever wanted her to do was be herself; she wanted the world from him.

She should've realized that her high expectations couldn't be met within a year. At least not in Stars Hollow.

But in the end, seeing him in Truncheon, she's finally okay with having those _great expectations_; she did well by him, she'd like to think.

Or maybe she's just so full of herself to believe that it was all her doing that he's like this now. After all, _The Subsect_ has no dedication.

Despite it being a short novel, she finds herself taking days to get through it. Not that it's bad; on the contrary, it's refreshing and unique, but she finds herself automatically reading deeper into every word choice. She suddenly realizes halfway through the book that she's reading for subtext.

And finally, it's not so tiring anymore.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I'm going away for about a week, and I'm not getting back until the 17th, so expect an update soon after that :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	62. I'm On My Way To Striking Out

A/N: I always loved this lyric in the song "Stay Awake (Dreams Only Last for a Night)", which has always been one of my favorite ATL songs. The acoustic version is also very good.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Figure it out, boy,_

_You're tripping so pull yourself together_

_Or you'll wash up like the rest._

_This ship is sinking,_

_I'm thinking I'm done for,_

_I'll watch as the sails_

_Disappear underwater_

'_Cause I'm no captain yet._

_- All Time Low_

I'm On My Way To Striking Out

It's all gone to shit.

He never thought his life could collapse like it has. And this is the strangest experience he's ever had: standing in the middle of a beach with dozens of happy go-lucky people in brightly colored clothing, frolicking in the sand and surf.

It's all very surreal.

He wishes he felt more connected to his surroundings or at least blended in a bit more (since when did he give a shit about that?), but it's like he's standing outside his body. He's not sure if it's because he's becoming so emotionally stunted or if it's to somehow protect himself from the pain of everything. He thinks it's the latter and that scares him.

It's just confusing, really.

Some jerk-child flicks sand in his direction and he considers frightening the little bastard, but ultimately he's just sick of even trying. After all, isn't that all he did these past few months? And where has that gotten him: to a sunny beach in California, three thousand miles away from the only people who ever gave a shit.

Fuck.

Eventually he walks away, not wanting to stare at the Pacific Ocean anymore; its brightness is giving him a headache.

* * *

A/N: 200-word count :) I'm going away on vacation again this Saturday, but I'll be back come Thursday, so I'll be updating a little after that.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	63. That's All I've Ever Known

A/N: I never wanted to do another Taylor Swift song…but then I heard this one on the radio recently…_damn it_!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_You said, "I remember how we felt sitting by the water,_

_And everything time I look you, it's like the first time._

_I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter,_

_She is the best thing that's ever been mine."_

_- Taylor Swift_

That's All I've Ever Known

Jess Mariano never had a lot of things that he considered to be his.

He supposes the first thing he ever owned was a ratty old teddy bear with a missing leg and ear with a loose button eye. Eventually he just threw it away because it wasn't even worth having.

But the first thing he actually truly considered to be his was an old children's library book, illegally taken out by Liz's boyfriend at the time, Joseph. He was a good one. He took Jess to the New York City Public Library one winter and they spent the afternoon together. Jess read a few books, but one stood out to him the most.

Joseph snuck Jess out of the library with the book.

It was the first time Jess had ever stolen something.

Looking back, Jess doesn't really understand why they nicked it in the first place since Joseph had enough money to spare for a children's book. But it was exciting at the time and it was a bonding moment.

It was just too bad that he died two weeks later.

Jess didn't cry at the funeral because in the back of his mind he didn't expect it to last anyway.

After that he had his books and CDs.

They were all he ever needed.

And then Rory Gilmore comes along and suddenly there's something he wants more than anything else in this fucked up universe. Round after round of shitty hands and bad luck and then she's dealt into the game.

Suddenly he doesn't feel like he's seen it all.

He should've known it wouldn't last. Or maybe it was that he _did_ know and he wanted to run before she was ripped away and it completely collapsed in his face.

Kind of like his piece of shit car that vaguely reminded him of his stuffed animal that he threw away.

But even that he eventually sold for nothing.

Maybe he's just not meant to have anything for very long. Nineteen years of living is proof enough for him. He thinks he's heard about this from somewhere: you really only borrow or rent everything in life. It's kind of depressing, but it's strangely fitting. You can't bring anything with you when you die, right?

All you have during your final moments are your thoughts and memories.

He writes over a long period of time, nothing serious, but it's still something of his that nobody else knows about until he starts living in Philly. For the first time in his life, once Chris hands his published book to him, he knows it's okay and it'll remain that way. This can't be taken away from him.

It's a turning point. At least he kind of hopes so. He has friends and has realized that he'll always have Luke no matter what.

Maybe some things aren't completely lost forever.

Jess Mariano never had a lot of things that he considered to be his.

But the few things he does have, or ever had for a time, they're dear to him, even if it doesn't seem that way. He'll have to work on that.

* * *

A/N: So it fully hit me that we're not seeing the lovely Milo Ventimiglia next fall in _Heroes_...and I'm extremely upset. Who's with me? I suppose I'll have to make do with re-watching _Gilmore Girls_ and random _Heroes_ episodes. Oh, and hope that he does some good movies in the meantime (is that too much to ask? Has he ever been in a decent movie?).

Please review! I'm almost at the 500-mark!

MissGoalie


	64. Now That I Got My Woman

A/N: I was watching _Animal House_ (in which this song is sun) and I realized, "Hey, this could strangely work for Jess…"

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_You know you make me want to (Shout!)_

_Kick my heels up and (Shout!)_

_Throw my hands up and (Shout!)_

_Throw my head back and (Shout!)_

_– The Isley Brothers_

Now That I Got My Woman

Bill Borden doesn't quite understand Jess Mariano.

Normally kids his age don't work at Wal-Mart, but he couldn't deny that the kid had lot of work experience and he didn't seem too bent on socializing; he could get a lot of work done.

And he certainly does.

Bill doesn't think he's ever seen Jess converse with another employee. He simply walks in, an employee of higher ranking reminds him to put on his uniform vest (which he does reluctantly), and then he goes into the back where he works the forklift.

Always with an emotionless or a surly expression on his face, depending on his mood.

But today is a weird day.

Jess Mariano walks into Wal-Mart with his vest already on.

Everyone notices, too.

And after a few hours when Bill goes into the back to inform Jess that his shift his over, he finds him _smiling_. Well, not exactly _smiling_…it's more like a smirk, but it still surprises him. He wonders why the _hell_ this boy is suddenly _happy_.

Despite the lack of a full-on grin, Bill can tell that Jess is actually in a good mood.

"Jess? Your shift's done," he tells the boy.

Bill waits for the usual request of adding another shift, and this time he really wants Jess to cover for a rather lazy employee who has called in sick again (he really has to fire her), but for the first time, Jess wordlessly turns off the forklift and climbs out.

He must look flabbergasted because Jess smirks at him, making him feel like an idiot before he says, "I have plans," to explain his silence on the matter.

That's when it all comes to Bill Borden.

Jess Mariano has got himself a girl. And not just a random hook up.

He may not understand Jess Mariano, but he certainly understands the certain feelings of elation when it comes to getting the girl. His feelings of "elation" may not be as obvious, but they're still there.

"Have a good weekend!" Bill tells Jess as he walks out the door.

"You, too," Jess calls back as he rips off his uniform.

Now Bill's concerned. He's _never_ said anything like that before.

This girl must be something else.

* * *

A/N: I planned on writing this in Jess' POV, but then I started writing in the Wal-Mart's manager's POV, which was random, but I kind of like the POV being outside of Jess and Rory.

**Okay, here's the deal: I'm going to be out of the country for the next three months and I'm not quite sure how often I will be updating. I'm going to do my best, but don't be surprised if I don't update for weeks at a time. If you're interested, I'm going to be keeping a blog on my LiveJournal account (link on my profile!) – I'll be letting you know of some of my (mis)adventures and informing you of how my writing is going. It's going to be public, so you don't have to have a LJ account to read it :)**

Please review!

MissGoalie


	65. We're Making Out Inside Crashed Cars

A/N: Dedicated to **Betsy86** because she was the 500th reviewer of this little (not so little anymore, really) collection of oneshots. You're awesome!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Turn off the lights_

_And turn off the shyness_

'_Cause all of our moves_

_Make up for the silence_

_And oh, the way_

_Your makeup stains my pillowcase_

_Like I'll never be the same_

_- Fall Out Boy_

We're Making Out Inside Crashed Cars

While Rory and Jess may have gotten through the initial stage of awkwardness, she still finds their status as a couple somewhat strange to her.

Not that it's a bad thing; she's caught herself more than once smiling for seemingly no reason. Of course, it starts to irk Paris after the second time it occurs during a science lab.

"What's with you? You've got that annoying lovesick look on your face. It's like when Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb over there find a new boy to play with," Paris snaps, gesturing towards Louise and Madeline who are giggling over a concealed magazine.

Rory blushes. "I am not!"

Paris rolls her eyes. "Right. So, come on. What is it. _Dean_ did something _romantic_?" Paris drawls mockingly as she writes down some observations. Rory can't help but think of Jess how similar those two can be.

"I'm not with Dean anymore," Rory admits, unsurprised to find how very little that hurts her.

Paris stops writing to stare at Rory. "Seriously?" she inquires, her eyebrows raised and her voice somewhat kinder.

Rory nods, observing the hot plate. "I'm fine, though. Really," she tells her honestly.

After a minute of writing and observing (nothing happens), Paris says, "It's James Dean Version Two-Point-Oh, isn't it?" Paris grins. "I _knew_ it."

Rory flushes again. "Maybe," she mumbles.

"Well, talk about an upgrade," Paris replies, now ignoring their experiment.

Rory really doesn't want to talk about this with Paris. "Dean wasn't horrible."

"Oh no. He was just illiterate and behaved like a caveman," Paris quips, rolling her eyes.

"Stop it. He was my first boyfriend and I loved him."

Paris sighs. "Fine. Whatever. It still doesn't mean that the Kerouac-wannabe isn't a lot more interesting."

Rory can't help but smile, which causes Paris to groan frustratingly. "Do you want to join them? You'll fit _right_ into their bread-dead-duo."

Rory laughs. "Sorry. It's just…" She shrugs. "I don't know. I can't really explain it."

"Oh, great. Your mental functions are crashing. I still need you to compete with! We still don't know who the valedictorian will be and I _need_ decent competition."

"Relax, Paris. I haven't completely lost my head yet. Ooh, look! Something's happening!" Rory says, pointing to the beaker on the hot plate.

For the rest of the period Paris is focused completely on the experiment, which Rory is grateful for; Paris missed the three or four seemingly causeless smiles Rory makes without her realizing.

* * *

"Who's _that_," Louise points through the crowd, a rather predatory gleam in her eyes.

Somewhat curious, Rory follows Louise's manicured hand and is more than surprised to see Jess leaning oh-so-casually against the stonewall, a book in his hand and a pencil behind his ear.

After Rory gets over her shock she begins to smile, which immediately comes to Paris' attention.

"_Again_? Enough with this! You're a strong, independent woman! Stop thinking about him!" Paris says testily, nudging Rory rather hard.

"Agh! Paris! Jess is _here_," Rory replies with a slight pout, gesturing towards the wall.

Louise and Madeline whip their heads to Rory. "You _know_ him?" Madeline asks Rory with a hint of awe.

Rory can feel her cheeks grow warm, but she feels a kind of pride in knowing that he's _hers_ in a way.

Paris scoffs. "He's Rory's boyfriend," she answers for her.

"_What_?" Louise and Madeline squeal.

"I have to go," Rory murmurs, trying to get away as quickly as possible before they can trap her.

When she's within a few feet of him, he looks up from his book and smiles at her. Then his smile becomes more of an amused smirk as he watches her speed walk, which is a rather funny sight with her large yellow backpack bouncing behind her.

"Come on, we're leaving," Rory tells him, grabbing him by the jacket.

"What?" he asks, very interested.

"Right now. Let's go," she continues, daring a glance back, horrified to see Madeline and Louise trying to get to them.

Jess follows her gaze. "Are you trying to run away?"

"Have a good Thanksgiving!" she calls out to them before lowering her voice, "Yes, come on. They won't follow us outside the campus – they're scared of Hartford," as she continues to pull him away until they're outside.

He chuckles once they're standing on the sidewalk, taking her hand off his jacket so he can lace it with his. "And why were we running away?"

She sighs. "They're just annoying. They saw you and…" Then she blushes when she sees their hands together. This is just so _weird_ – after all this time they're _finally_ –

"What are you doing here?" she finally asks, confused. "I thought we were seeing each other tonight."

"Yeah, well, school got out early. Half day, you know, for Thanksgiving. And I thought, 'Why don't I check out this fancy school of yours.'"

"And?"

"It's quite fancy."

She grins. "Yes it is."

"It definitely warrants the wearing of stockings," he points out.

"Oh, it's really not part of the uniform. I mean you can wear them or you can choose to wear high socks. I've never been into the high socks. Especially in this weather – it's quite cold out and stockings keep you warm," she rambles.

Jess shakes his head but smiles anyway, causing her to blush.

"Sorry, I'm talking too much, right?"

"No, you go on ahead. I'm enjoying your rambling. It's entertaining," he says, slightly mocking.

She can't believe he _remembered_ that.

Before she can stop herself, she cranes her neck to kiss his cheek (he smells of hair gel, a lovely aftershave, and something else she's unfamiliar with (but she knows she's going to enjoy trying to figure it out in the future)).

"Rory! How very inappropriate," he jokes.

She flushes but doesn't look away. "So you came all the way to Hartford just to scope out my school?"

"That, and maybe see you."

"Maybe?"

He shrugs, trying to be coy, but she knows that was exactly why he came.

He leads her to his car, which is parallel-parked between a large SUV and a sleek Mercedes Benz. It looks worse than usual, but Rory thinks it has character.

He doesn't open her door for her, which she's a bit surprised by, but in the end she rather likes that he doesn't: she can open a door herself. Also, if she manages to hit her head while slipping in, he won't notice as he's making his way to the driver's seat (of course it happens this time).

Once he gets in and shuts the door, a strong desire to pull him close and kiss him overpowers her, but she feels so ridiculously awkward at the thought of doing that. She's okay if she's in a situation with a "warm up," but the spontaneous isn't really her thing.

Wait, what is she _thinking_? Of course she can do spontaneous! Didn't she do that this past summer with him?

Inspired and invigorated, she undoes her seatbelt, reaches over to attack him with her lips. He smoothly goes with the flow, snaking an arm around her waist and easing her mouth open with his tongue. For a few moments she's experiencing heaven: this must be what all those authors were write about, the state of bliss enlightened thinkers talk about.

But then it quickly ends with Jess roughly pulling away and slamming his hand on the horn, letting out a blaring noise.

It takes a few seconds for her to realize that the SUV in front of them is almost two inches away from rearing into Jess' car.

"What the –" Jess curses as he lowers his window. "Watch where you're backing out!" he yells, looking murderous. She feels like she's watching a scene in New York City.

A woman with expensive highlights and too much makeup sticks her head through the window and glares nastily at Jess. "It wouldn't matter – your car is a piece of garbage," she retorts.

Without much thought, Rory lowers her own window and yells, "Just get the hell out of here!"

Jess and the woman stare at her with surprised expressions on both their faces.

The woman mutters under her breath and eventually drives away. As soon as she does, Jess bursts out laughing.

Rory has never seen him laugh like that before; she loves it.

"That was…" he shakes his head, still chuckling. "You're something else, Rory Gilmore."

She smiles with pride. "I've never done anything like that before. I always scream it in my head but…"

He leans in a little, effectively cutting her off and she meets him halfway for a gentler kiss than the one before. She supposes she doesn't have to be home _right_ away…

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it – I've always wondered what Madeline and Louise would've thought if they know Rory was dating someone like Jess. Once again, Jess was not properly used in the show.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	66. Running Away From The Light

A/N: I love, _love_ this song. Especially Kanye West's part. You can't buy this version of "Hurricane" on iTunes, but you can hear it on YouTube :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_You say you wrong, you wrong, I'm right, I'm right, you're wrong, we fight._

_Okay, I'm running from the light, running from the day to night._

_Oh, the quiet silence defines our misery,_

_The riot inside keeps trying to visit me._

_No matter how we try, it's too much history;_

_Too many bad notes playing in our symphony._

_So let it breathe, let it fly, let it go,_

_Let it fall, let it crash, burn slow_

_– 30 Seconds To Mars (Kanye West)_

Running Away From The Light

He wants to stay with her, he really does.

Kind of ironic, actually.

But he knows better; this can't work, it _won't_ work unless something (he) changes. He's fully aware of his shortcomings and faults and they won't go away until he does something about them.

The only option he has is to leave.

On the bus, he wants to touch her – reach out and caress her cheek. Something, _anything_ to let her know that this doesn't have to do with her, not really. She shouldn't blame herself and worry about him (even though he kind of wants her to, which is selfish).

But nothing happens, eloquently defining them.

And at the same time, a million things occur at once; he can feel it. There's a shift somewhere and their lives have changed irrevocably. He feels a bit of nausea, hoping that this doesn't affect her as much as it's affecting him.

Maybe he's not a completely selfish bastard.

His ride across the country is uneventful. He reads so he's not alone with his thoughts (his mind is a dangerous place right now). He hides himself in his leather jacket and is wearing the Distillers shirt he got from that concert with Rory (he wants to keep her close somehow). And when he reaches his final destination, he thinks that maybe now things will turn out okay.

But as _soon_ as he steps off the bus and he observes his foreign surroundings, he realizes that she's never going to understand this, his reasoning behind everything; it was a mistake to not say anything or touch her before they parted ways.

He'll never be able to touch her again.

At this point, all he's left with is his voice, his words, which were never his greatest attributes.

He pulls out his map and focuses on trying to find Jimmy; he won't sleep tonight and he'll have plenty of time to think then. Even though he's doing his best to concentrate on the present, he has to force himself not to lose it: he's scared out of his fucking mind right now.

He takes a breath. He's got it under control.

_Yeah, I heard that one before_, an annoying voice in his head tells him.

His grip on the map tightens. He's fine; it's not a big deal. He'll find Jimmy, crash with him for a while…and then he'll figure the rest out later. All under control, see?

He ignores the trembling in his fingertips.

* * *

A/N: Jess is actually wearing a Distillers shirt in episode 3x21 "Here Comes the Son" – I noticed the last time I watched it :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	67. Something's On My Mind

A/N: There are very few moments in _Gilmore Girls_ when I actually cheered for a character. One instance was when Lorelai told Rory off for sleeping with Dean. Another was when Rory told off Logan for going to that wedding to see her, trying to make a grand gesture. And then there's this.

Dedicated to **reviewgirl911** because we both love this scene and Paris in general.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I've had this burning in my guts now for so long,_

_My belly's aching now to say…say…_

_You're just a fuck_

_I can't explain it 'cause I think you suck._

_I'm taking pride in telling you to fuck off and die._

_– Green Day_

Something's On My Mind

Rory Gilmore may be Paris Geller's best friend, but that does _not_ mean Paris approves of her taste in men.

Dean, while very nice, was a complete idiot. Frankly, Paris is surprised the bumbling bag boy graduated high school. Country bumpkin loser. Thank whatever higher power is in this world that Rory is done with him.

And then there was Jack Kerouac. Honestly, he was (many) a step up from Dean and he was definitely the most intelligent, but how could a person have _no_ ambition to do _anything_? Becoming a high school dropout? Disgusting. Waste of intelligence if he can't apply it to the real world.

But they don't even come _close_ to Logan Huntzberger.

Paris didn't fall for his charm for a _second_. She knows exactly what kind of person he is and she's so surprised that Rory was seduced by it. Sure, the guy's smart, but he squanders his opportunities and connections just to drink and party. Someone who has everything and couldn't give a shit about it.

He pisses her off with everything he does. From his obnoxious gifts to his _irritating_ smirk to his _UGH_! Everything about him. Everything that he stands for. She. _Despises_.

And when she found out that he _cheated_ on Rory? Well, that tears it.

"It's Logan," they hear through the door and Paris wants to vomit.

"I don't want to talk to him!" Rory tells Paris, who gets an extreme satisfaction at having her best friend back to her senses.

"I got it." Paris opens the door, leaving the chain on. "Well, well, if it isn't New Haven's favorite whorehound!"

This is almost therapeutic. She's never hated a person more in her life and now she has the most perfect excuse to rip him a new one.

"Is Rory here?"

"Yes."

"Can I talk to her?"

She likes this. A lot. "No. You can talk to me." She takes off the chain and opens the door fully. "What do you want to talk about? Life? Love? Common symptoms of sexually transmitted diseases?"

Because she's pretty sure he has symptoms for at least five.

"Rory –"

"Rashes, sores, insanity –"

"Five minutes_, please_!"

Paris bets he's never said _please_ once in his life. "You know, there's a few things I've always wanted to say to you, but out of _respect_ for my friend Rory here, I've refrained. However, the circumstances seem to have changed!"

And she couldn't be happier.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Paris."

"I _know _you cheated on Rory!"

"I did _not_ cheat on Rory."

"Are you going to deny it? Are you _serious_?"

"We were _apart_!"

For someone who claims to be intelligent, he really isn't.

"Oh, _please_!"

"We _were_! We weren't together and why the hell am I arguing with you? I don't want _you_ back!"

_You never even deserved Rory in the first place_, she thinks to herself.

"You, Logan Huntzberger, are nothing but a two-bit, _spoiled_, waste of a trust fund. You offer _nothing_ to women or the world in general. If you were to disappear from the face of the earth tomorrow, the only person that would miss you is your Porsche dealer!"

"You want to chime in here?" he inquires, looking past Paris to Rory.

"No, I think Paris has got it covered."

Paris has never been more proud.

But then it all goes downhill. Doyle comes, bringing up Paris' own problems and she's distracted, allowing Rory to soften and listen to what garbage Logan has to spew.

Paris has never been more disgusted and disappointed with Rory when she takes him back.

But to be honest, she can't bring herself to care anymore about Rory's messed up love life. She's found someone of her own. Yes, he's not the most handsome man in the world nor is he as demanding as she (not that she blames him – she_ is_ one of a kind), but he has many other qualities that are admirable and she loves him.

It could be said the same for Logan, but she can't see any self-respecting woman put up with any of it.

She just doesn't understand how Rory could've allowed herself to become like this. Sometimes she wishes they could go back in time to high school when they were both dreaming of going to Harvard and their biggest problems were getting into college and worrying if boys may or may not like you.

She looks back on Jamie fondly – she did love him and she's happy that he was her "high school" boyfriend.

She wonders if Rory ever looks back on Dean and Jess that way.

Dean, sure. Jess? She can't imagine looking back _fondly_ on him, especially since their relationship was so _different_; it was way beyond high school sweethearts. Not that she would ever admit it, but Paris saw them going for the long haul. Yeah, she was sure he would disappear a few times and maybe go through a few issues, but in the end he would always come back to her. It would be like one of those epic romances that people are envious about since the rest of Rory's life resembles a fairytale.

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

Whatever. She doesn't have liberal time to fuss about Rory's inability to pick a decent guy. Right now, she has to plan out studying her finals and spending time with Doyle, now that he's back in the equation.

She smiles a little as she sets times for him in her planner.

* * *

A/N: Paris-centric, yes, but I like going into Paris' mind because I think we're both similar when it comes to being practical, especially with our emotions. Expect some more fics in the future with her in them...

Random question: when people mention Rory cleaning out the garage for Lane...what the hell? I don't understand...yes, it was a very friendly thing to do...but is this supposed to "prove" something else entirely (i.e. that they secretly love each other)?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	68. Enough To Keep Me Here

A/N: I wanted to avoid using ATL lyrics too much…but they just work for Literati. Especially "Coffeeshop Soundtrack," which I've used before...

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I can keep a secret_

_If you can keep me guessing_

_The flavor of your lips_

_Is enough to keep me pressing_

_For more than just a moment_

_Of truth between the lies told_

_To pull ourselves away_

_From the lives we leave back…_

_– All Time Low_

Enough To Keep Me Here

Did that really happen?

It obviously must have because his insides are on fire, his skin tingling everywhere and he just wants to run after her and kiss her all over again.

So she _does_ have feelings for him. Or at least she recognizes the obvious chemistry they share. That's good (more than good).

Honestly, he can't think too clearly right now; he's too much in disbelief at the moment.

All he can comprehend is that staying in this town is definitely going to be worth it and that he may just get what he wants sooner than he thought.

* * *

A/N: 100-word count :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	69. I Still Love You

A/N: I heard this in a store and I was like, "In Dean's head, he was definitely telling Jess to fuck himself," and I consequently cracked up.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I see you driving 'round town_

_With the girl I love and I'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_– Cee Lo Green_

I Still Love You

There goes that little shit. With _Rory_.

Dean had hoped that maybe Rory would be considerate and _not_ jump into Jess' arms the moment she was rid of him, but clearly this isn't the same Rory he first kissed in Doose's almost two years ago.

It makes his insides _boil_ to see her unrestrained joy with being in a relationship with _Jess_ of all people. Didn't Dean do everything right? He tried to make her happy, he really did, but it still didn't mean anything – she still wanted _him_.

She _wants_ him. Jess Mariano. That no good son of a bitch with a smirk that makes Dean want to punch something. Preferably him. In the face.

He sees them walking through the mirror of Doose's. They had just gotten out of Jess' car (the fact that _Jess_ trashed the car Dean made for Rory and now has a car of his own makes Dean seriously question if there is any justice in this world) and they're holding hands.

He doesn't know what's worse: Jess actually _touching_ Rory, or Rory actually being _happy_ about it.

He half expects Jess to look over at the market with a smug look of triumph on his stupid face, but he never does; his attention is completely on the beautiful girl on his arm.

Never in his life did he wish he were (more than) a few inches shorter with hair that looks like a dead animal.

Eventually, they disappear from his line of vision and he doesn't know whether he's grateful that he doesn't have to see anymore, or upset because he wants to keep an eye on them.

But he gets an eyeful on Thanksgiving.

He had _just_ finished his shift at Doose's when he sees Rory, looking so lovely in her red coat with her cheeks glowing in the cold, walk up to Jess and kiss him in a way that Dean's pretty sure he's never experienced from her.

That kills him more than anything – does that mean she never really loved him? But she did, she told him that a few nights ago, didn't she?

When she parts from him and Dean sees that _happy_ look on Jess' face (he doesn't think he's _ever_ seen Jess _smile_ before)…well, it's the last straw.

He grips his Doose's apron tightly and waits for Jess to approach.

* * *

A/N: That scene is actually really creepy. The kiss – adorable. But knowing that Dean is literally standing a few measly yards away, acting like a stalker, kind of ruins it.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	70. Just Put Your Hands On Me

A/N: I was thinking about some classic Lit scenes and I suddenly remembered the infamous scene from 3x05 where Jess looks sexyfine all wet. Let's just say I was instantly inspired :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I gotta hold you somehow._

_I wanna, I wanna, I wanna touch you,_

_You wanna touch me, too,_

_Everyday, but all I have is time,_

_Our love's the perfect crime._

_– The All-American Rejects_

Just Put Your Hands On Me

Rory's not _blind_: she knows a good-looking guy when she sees one.

But apparently she _is_ an idiot; she didn't realize how much she'd been trying to downplay Jess Mariano in her mind until he runs through the sprinklers. She watches the muscles of his shoulder blades contract under his soaked sweater as he fixes the spigot in a heartbeat.

And speaking of, her heart is _racing_ at the sight of him: normally crazy hair that defies gravity is now plastered to his forehead, bringing attention to his brown eyes, which suddenly look brighter, the flecks of gold and green more obvious. His sweater, which didn't show off his frame before, now clings to his chest and arms, revealing hidden, lean muscles, making her mouth go dry despite the excess amounts of water.

Water drips from his hair to his mouth as he explains how he _pressed hard_ and _gave it a good twist_ and all she wants is his mouth to _stop moving_, unless they're going to be moving on hers.

_Not good_.

What happened? They were fine before and suddenly there's _tension_ and not the awkward kind – it's foreign and it's somehow more painful.

"So things are good?"

"Oh yeah, _really_ good."

She has to move her hands behind her back because she _knows_ what she wants to do now – what has become a single momentary impulse has transformed and manifested into something completely out of hand. It can't be what she thinks (knows) it is, because that would mean –

"School?"

"Good."

"Still gonna do the Harvard thing?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Yeah, good. So…"

That _damn_ beeping.

"My pager," she stupidly notes as she reaches into her pocket.

"Yeah, I figured," he says in a way that should've been full of sarcasm, but since this conversation has been very careful, the line loses a lot of its bite.

She looks at the name, suddenly hating it. Dean just_ sounds_ stupid: _Deeean_; the syllable is too long and it's kind of hard to say (or maybe it's just gotten harder to bring him up).

She puts the pager away and doesn't say anything for a moment, selfishly wanting to hold onto this moment because she _hates_ being angry with him and she _hates_ not being able to talk to him, even if this exchange of dialogue hasn't been very stimulating (mentally).

"Who is it?" he asks and she wonders if the look on her face was too revealing.

"It's, uh, Dean," she answers with a slight wince. "I paged him earlier to come over and help me and he just got the message, so he's…" she explains, hoping that they won't start fighting.

"Coming over to help," he supplies, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah."

He solemnly nods, understanding her better than she ever thought anyone else could. "Okay."

Her breath catches in her throat as she watches him mess up the spigot. For _her_.

He gives her a knowing smile, but there's a tinge of sadness that's a bit unexpected.

She bites her upper lip hard as she watches him walk away because she still _wants_ him. How he can conjure these emotions and carnal reactions is beyond her, but there's simply no denying it: she's attracted to Jess.

But nothing can ever happen, at least after what she did and what they had said to each other. She had her chance, didn't she? And she chose Dean. For the past few weeks she convinced herself it was like passing a "good girlfriend" test – she had the taste of forbidden fruit and opted for what's safer.

Blander.

Her heart aches when he disappears and she tries to ignore the acute pain in her chest and the tears rolling down her face, perfectly blending in with the water showering her again.

Dean arrives in a run, out of breath, apologizing profusely for not coming _straight away_.

She's angry with him, too. Maybe she could've been spared the kind of twisted torture of seeing Jess if he just _answered _his pager when he was_ supposed _to.

_I chose right, I chose right, I know I did._

_

* * *

_

A/N: I wish someone on YouTube would make a Literati video to this song – I'm surprised it hasn't been done yet!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	71. Find Yourself A Better Life

A/N: I was listening to old Death Cab songs and totally forgot about "Title and Registration." It was strangely purging writing this one.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all,_

_And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide;_

_Lying awake at night, up all night_

_When I'm lying awake at night._

_– Death Cab For Cutie_

Find Yourself A Better Life

You don't know how much it hurts to really fuck up until you actually do it. He thought it would be fine, that she could get over it and he could…he doesn't know. Nothing. Everything. Anything.

Anything other than watching her face crumble with disappointment.

But now he realizes, as he's gripping this dirty public telephone in _perpetually sunny_ Venice Beach, his imagination fills in the blanks just fine (a little too well, actually).

He can't really escape it with her teary voice slowly choking him from thousands of miles away, traveling across empty fields and rivers and cities.

She's too far away. But he feels suffocated by her at the same time.

It's too bad he can't travel further away – he's run out of land.

And it's too bad he can't get any closer – he's too scared to move.

He didn't account for this _pain._ It wrenches at his gut, making him feel like he's going to vomit any second now.

* * *

Last night at three in the morning, Sasha softly knocked on the bathroom door, asking if he was okay.

He lied and said it must've been something he ate on the boardwalk this afternoon.

* * *

She hangs up on him and he clenches his jaw, knowing that he deserved every fucking word.

He hangs up the phone and walks away, feeling dizzy, as if he stood up too fast; it kind of feels like losing something. He's never experienced that before.

* * *

Quotes from books and movies and songs come to mind, sympathizing, telling him how it feels, these broad, universal concepts of love and loss.

But he comes up with his own words and it magnifies his turmoil and suffering and regret to proportions that are too difficult for him to keep in. They take away his appetite, his ability to sleep, even the air out of his chest every once in a while (too often).

After almost eight months of running, he finally lets the words out. He writes them down in a dusty, red notebook that he never used for school.

These written words are expressed vocally to the one person who ever really mattered. They're all represented by three

little

words.

* * *

He tries to forget about them and move on, but every once in a while the past comes back to haunt him. Again and again.

His eating habits are erratic at best; the nausea comes and goes.

Kind of like the verbal thing.

* * *

The last time her words kill him is in her dorm room.

He doesn't remember what the fuck he said; he thought it was okay, that it was a way to fix everything.

Of course, he realizes as he calmly walks back to his car, his mind strangely blank and his face wet, that he has to fix his own shit first.

* * *

He doesn't stay in New York much longer after that. He thinks about traveling again, maybe going south, even though he hates country music.

As he's packing he finds that red notebook.

The night before he leaves the city, he finishes writing until he runs out of paper.

* * *

He should've known he can't do anything right. The first place he goes to is Philadelphia and finds himself stuck here. Willingly.

These people invade his privacy and read his private words. He hasn't felt this vulnerable since his last time under her blue gaze.

But it's kind of okay this time; he doesn't feel the need to run.

* * *

They suggest (more like demand) that he publish it. That this is the realest, rawest thing they've read and it altered them; something inside them was affected.

He shrugs. Whatever.

His insides are trembling like mad when they take his notebook away.

* * *

The copies are here and he can't bring himself to open the shipment.

Matthew ends up opening the box with Jess' old pocketknife that he left on his desk a month ago and hasn't felt any desire to keep it on him since.

Carving open his future with the past. He doesn't miss the symbolism of the moment.

The book (_his_ book) is short. A short novel. _He_, Jess Mariano, wrote a short novel.

Holding it in his hands for the first time, he finally thinks, _it's about damn time_.

For a lot of things.

* * *

He's nervous when he drives to Connecticut. Remnants of guilt and complete and utter _embarrassment _gnaw at him, making him jumpy.

For the first time in a long time, he avoids the situation: he goes to Boston first and works his way down the coast. He manages to sell almost a hundred copies and he smokes three packs of cigarettes.

* * *

The night before he heads to Connecticut, he calls Luke and asks for her address.

His answer leaves him speechless.

What the hell is she doing _there_?

* * *

When he finally sees her, he finds it; there's something wrong with her.

She avoids talking about herself and taking one out of her seventeen-year-old book, he doesn't push her.

There's relief in her eyes, but he doesn't plan on allowing her to live like this. Even if she has to go through hell in order to be good.

Secretly, he kind of hopes that she does – it'll certainly make her a better (stronger) person.

(And then he won't be so in her debt anymore).

* * *

He hasn't yelled like this in almost two years. The only difference is that this time it's the right thing to do.

No regrets.

Instead, he sees it in _her_ eyes. That's new. He supposes that everyone at some point has to screw up really fucking badly. And he knows that it's almost worse for her because she's not supposed to make mistakes.

She'll be okay. If he really does know her like he claimed to, then she'll get back on track.

Anything that's broken can be fixed.

(But you can still see the cracks).

* * *

When she goes down to Philly, saying that she's back at school and editor of the paper, he remembers how strong she really is. He forgot about that inner strength (it got lost in the tweed and fancy haircut).

She thanks him for saying all those things to her. That she couldn't have done it without him.

Using his words. One of the best moments of his life because it means he's doing some things right and not just for himself.

_Selfish, self-destructive behavior, my ass._

_

* * *

_

The day ends on a shitty note, but her words don't destroy him this time around.

He's just tired of her bullshit.

But shame on him for thinking too much of her. It took him three long years to get to where he is now; how could he expect her to do it in a few months?

He fell for it, the goddess image that the small town created for her. For a few hours, he forgot that she was a human being. A person who's flawed. He never bought into that crap before, not even for a second.

He's somewhat disgusted with himself for it – she doesn't deserve that. Just like he never deserved it before.

* * *

A few weeks later, he sends her an e-mail to her newspaper address – it's the only one he can find since he doesn't want to ask Luke about her again.

He recommends her two books and tells her to make sure she puts his name in the subject box since he's sharing an e-mail address with Chris (Jess refuses to conform to the age of technology).

It's a bit like a peace offering.

She writes back two days later, saying she hasn't read one, but read the other.

She makes a snide comment that sparks a debate that spans twenty e-mails over four months.

* * *

Writing to her feels right. They don't really talk about personal things (he doesn't know if she's still with that blonde dick), but they talk about everything else.

She asks him about a sequel in every other e-mail. He avoids giving direct answers as he fiddles with a pen in his right hand, half-finished chapters scattered around.

He's almost finished, but not quite.

* * *

It takes her over a month to respond to an e-mail he wrote in April, but he doesn't mind; he knows she's busy with graduation.

When he finally gets a response, she writes that she's working for an online magazine, following Obama's campaign around the country and she sends him a link to the magazine.

That day he creates his own e-mail account, much to Chris' happiness.

* * *

She e-mails him that she'll be in Philly in a few weeks and asks if he wanted to catch up. Finally have that talk.

As he's writing his response, he mentally goes through every restaurant he knows, deciding which will be the best place.

He chooses a diner with really good coffee, but the worst scrambled eggs. They both get Cokes (can't drink, early morning tomorrow – she explains), and order cheeseburgers and fries (an extra side of fries for her).

For the first time, they have a completely honest conversation. True feelings aren't hidden by coded words. She explains a few things and he admits to others and by the end of the night, they're on the same page, knowing each other better than anyone else.

* * *

After that meeting, they call each other every other week. She was the one to initiate the talks. He doesn't complain.

She talks about the cities she's in and once in a while he'll tell her that he's been there and they'll compare stories. Well, not all of them; he has some stories that he doesn't want her to ever know about.

He tells her he has to leave because she's taking up all his minutes.

Really, he has a date. He doesn't know why the hell he lied to her, but if he doesn't know about her love life, then she doesn't have to know about his.

* * *

She's nice. She's quiet, but it's a different kind of quiet from her. Instead of being shy, she just keeps to herself. She's a bit of a recluse, enjoying solidarity as much as he does, which he finds admirable, but she doesn't reject (his) company. She's graceful.

She's the first person in a while to make him really smile.

She writes screenplays and she's pretty successful. But she's also a freelance writer, submitting articles about anything and everything.

She has dirty blonde hair, light brown eyes, and a grin that's dazzling. Extremely photogenic.

They're good together, even though it's kind of missing…_something_. It's kind of like they're an old married couple: they lie on his bed together and read, they sit on the couch together and watch movies, and they don't talk a lot when they go out for dinner or coffee.

Sometimes the silence is nice, perfect, great, but other times, he kind of wishes she would ramble about _something_.

Something.

* * *

One drunken night, he slips _her_ name into the conversation. Instead of freaking out like he expected her to, she nods like a wise woman, saying that she figured there was someone. She puts him to bed and kisses his forehead before leaving his apartment.

The next day, he's about to end it with her, but she beats him to it. She admits that lately she has struck up a friendship with a filmmaker and although nothing has happened…she thinks something will. There's something there.

Something.

He tells her that she's doing the right thing, that it's a lot better than _waiting and waiting before you spontaneously kiss the guy and I dump you at a dance marathon_.

She doesn't get the reference and he doesn't bother explaining it.

He gives her a parting smile before paying for both their coffees and leaving.

* * *

He gets an invitation for Luke and Lorelai's wedding. It's dated for the beginning of summer. _Finally_.

He calls Luke and tells him he can come and Luke hesitantly asks if he can be the best man. That it's either him or TJ and frankly, he likes him more.

He smiles secretly and tells him that he'll do it.

When he hangs up the phone, he realizes that Rory is going to be the maid of honor.

He'll be seeing her soon.

* * *

She calls him excitedly the next day, gushing about the wedding and how amazing it's going to be and _thank god_ it's finally going to happen.

She can't wait to go home; she hasn't been home since Christmas.

The smile on his face slowly fades, realizing that he has to go back to Stars Hollow.

* * *

On his drive to Connecticut, his newly acquired agent calls him, bombarding him with information that doesn't sink in about potential book tours and possible bestseller lists and likely contracts for more books.

All these _potentials _and _possibilities _and _likelihoods _are so completely foreign to him; it shakes him to the point that he has to pull over to calm down.

In this moment he realizes that his life is so much more than anyone ever expected of him, including himself.

Well, not _everyone_…

* * *

He arrives in Stars Hallow with his lip twitching.

He's rather looking forward to her "I told you so."

* * *

A/N: I hope you kind of liked the vignettes. I always think they can be very powerful when done right…or pretty lame when not…so I hope I did okay with them. All I know for sure is that I got REALLY divider happy.

Please review! Even if it's just to tell me how many times I abused the divider :P

MissGoalie


	72. Next Chapter

A/N: *Sigh* I should've known that this was going to happen when she released her new album (expect more T-Swift in the future - might as well stop denying it!). But seriously, this song is SO Rory and Jess – brava, Taylor, brava!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_How did we end up this way?_

_See me nervously pulling at my clothes and trying to look busy_

_And you're doing your best to avoid me._

_I'm starting to think one day I'll tell the story of us:_

_How I was losing my mind when I saw you here,_

_But you held your pride like you should have held me._

_Oh, I'm scared to see the ending, why are we pretending this is nothing?_

_I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how,_

_I've never heard silence quite this loud._

_– Taylor Swift_

Next Chapter

Rory's surprised she didn't react as badly when she saw him sleeping in the car. How she kept her voice steady, even slipping in some resentment in her tone was impressive. She's rather proud of herself.

At least until she lies in bed, her hands trembling and her chest quaking as she tries to breathe, unable to deal with how close she is to him right now (physically, it's always physically (most of the time)).

It was so much easier trying to pretend that the time spent with him was just an elaborate, dark and slightly twisted fantasy. Something she desperately created, a rough sketch of her possible soul mate.

He was merely an audition. And he didn't make the cut.

But she's beginning to wonder if she really has power over the casting choice.

This is when she really hates how fucking small this town is, but she still holds onto the lost hope that she can avoid him the entire time.

And _why_ is _he_ avoiding _her_? Only _she_ has the right to avoid! He should be crawling on his hands and knees, lamenting what an idiot he was, not even saying goodbye and that he loved her and she would just…

She clenches her teeth at her automatic response: _I love you, too_.

No. He doesn't _deserve it_. After everything he did to her? He's lucky that she even _acknowledges_ his existence (barely).

But when she can't help notice the dark rings under his eyes and his thin frame, she feels unwanted sympathy fill her heart, which can't handle his presence anymore.

This standoff feels so wrong to her; they were never meant to be against each other.

(Look how it turned out the first time).

She catches Luke's eyes once and he gives her a look full of commiseration (he doesn't want him here either), frustration (_why_ is he here?), and something she can relate to, but she doesn't know what it is (thank _God_ he's alive).

Because sometimes she'd have nightmares of seeing his lifeless body in an abandoned alley.

Now that she knows he's alive and (relatively) well, she wishes he would just _leave_.

But seeing him as she waits in line for something (she forgot what it was as soon as she finds him), she figures leaving him will be the next best thing.

_Let's see how he likes watching someone else's back._

She hears him call her name and run after her, the façade of nonchalance they were both clutching to like a frighten child holds a blankie during a storm is ripped away.

Instead of the satisfaction that came the first around, she feels empty, knowing it's only because she can't possibly comprehend the agony of what's happening. Defense mechanism. Or is it a coping mechanism? No, it can't be because she's hardly _coping_ with losing him.

Not if the tears on her face are of any indication.

Why is it that she can ramble an insane amount, but when it really matters she can't utter a fucking word?

_Please, talk to me, Why do you keep doing this to me? Don't leave again, I want you in my life, more than anyone else, I LOVE YOU._

She wipes her face dry, his car long gone, immediately trying to modify this moment as nothing more than a dream; there's no way he said those words to her.

But like always, something in the back of her mind tells her that their _story_ isn't quite done yet.

She hates this unsettling feeling – it's like starting a book for pleasure but then being forced to put it away when you have too much homework or chores to do.

She tries not to compare him to reading _The Fountainhead_ when she was ten; she doesn't want him now and she's _never_ going to want him again.

The End.

(But she knows better than that).

* * *

A/N: Happy Halloween, everyone! And those who believe it's too "American," you're totally missing out on the fun!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	73. One Day

A/N: I was watching 2x16 and Dean was pretty frightening when he catches Rory pushing Jess out of her house. I wondered what were Jess' thoughts on this (it probably brought back some bad memories)…and then I thought about Paris covering for Rory and leaving the room briefly…

My mind goes on seriously random tangents, but it did inspire me to write!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Hey girl, you know you drive me crazy,_

_One look puts the rhythm in my hand._

_Still I'll never understand why you hang around,_

_I see what's going down._

_- The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_

One Day

"Anyway, I should get going. I'm probably gonna break out in some sort of rash any second now," Paris finishes, trailing off and looking down at the ground before she heads out of the kitchen.

She _cannot_ believe the look on Dean's face earlier – it was murderous. Frankly, she doesn't know how Rory was able to stand up to him like she did, telling him to stop yelling. He's a _giant_; he could easily hurt Rory.

And his glaring at Paris…she certainly didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of it. The guy may be slow, but he could do damage.

How can Rory _be_ with someone so…

Paris enters the living room, planning on packing up her things, but something in the window catches her eye.

Jess.

Curious, she cocks her head to the side as she heads over to the window. Jess notices and looks down at his feet.

Checking the kitchen, she finds Rory and Dean engrossed in conversation and silently moves to the front door to open it. Jess is there already.

"I just…wanted to make sure nothing happened," he mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She wonders how many times he's witnessed abuse to be paranoid about it like this; it's rather alarming and tragic, what's behind all that joking and sarcasm.

"I don't blame you. He looked barbaric. But I think I calmed him down. I concocted a lie…hopefully his semi-developed brain was able to comprehend it," she says, scoffing, trying to reassure him.

He smirks a little. "Right."

She glances back, hearing only silence and hopefully the end of the argument. "You should probably go," she tells him.

"Yeah."

"I really enjoyed dinner. I actually had fun. And I know Rory did, too."

He gives her a small, genuine smile. "See ya around."

"Next time, I _demand_ an explanation as to why you think Austen would've liked Bukowski!" she hisses at his retreating back.

He throws up a hand in a farewell gesture, disappearing into the darkness.

She shuts the door just as the kitchen door opens. Dean must be leaving.

She rushes to the couch, plops down on it and begins packing.

Hopefully, one day, Rory will realize that Dean is not the right kind of person for her, that there are other people, or more specifically one, who seems very interested and is more in tune. Not that Dean doesn't care; it's just…not enough.

When Rory comes into the living room with a relieved smile on her face, Paris can only hope that it'll happen soon. There's no way that Dean, and Jess for that matter, are going to be able to keep this up for very long.

Because if the blinding concern she caught in his dark gaze through the window meant anything, Jess' feelings for her a lot deeper than Rory or Dean think.

* * *

A/N: I loved this episode because of Paris/Jess – why couldn't that friendship be developed? Why?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	74. It's Here

A/N: This is between episodes 3x09 and 3x10.

Dedicated to** watram** for being the 600th reviewer!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Oh what a day, oh what a day_

_To be remembered by you and I._

_We've got to bundle up tomorrow_

_Cuz winter comes so hard._

_– Forever the Sickest Kids_

It's Here

School's cancelled. Or at least Rory's pretty sure; there are snow warnings all over the state and several surrounding towns are already cancelling school in advance. Even though it still hasn't snowed yet, she can smell it; it's coming.

Which is why she leaves her house at half past eight at night and knocks on the door to the diner, hoping Jess will be able to join her.

Luke opens the window above the diner, bleary eyed, but he smiles when he sees her.

"Sorry Luke. Is Jess around?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I thought we could go for a walk. Since…you know there probably won't be school."

"Did your mom say it was okay?"

She grimaces a bit before nodding. "Yeah."

Technically, Lorelai thinks Rory is walking to the library to pick up a book for a paper. But Rory knew Lorelai would never let her out otherwise, especially if she really knew that Rory was going to see Jess.

"He'll be down in a minute." And Luke shuts the window.

She crosses her arms and shivers, jumping up and down, hoping to get warm.

When Jess steps outside, he already has a smirk on his face. "Hey."

"Hey," she says, grinning.

"What's what with the late night call?" he inquires as he gets closer.

"Well, I'm actually –" she starts to explain, but he interrupts her by kissing her.

She doesn't complain one bit as she wraps her arms around his neck, grateful for the warmth (he's always so warm for some reason).

After a minute or so, he pulls away. "You were saying something?"

It takes her a few moments to collect her thoughts. "Oh, yeah. Right. Uh, well, I thought that since there's probably going to be no school tomorrow for either of us you may be interested in going out for a walk or something."

"Uh huh."

"So…what do you think?"

He shrugs, draping his arm around her shoulders as they walk. "I'd probably like it more if you weren't really going to get a library book."

She gasps. "How did you know?"

"I doubt your mother would appreciate this secret rendezvous."

"Did you seriously use the world rendezvous? Very fancy word."

"Hardly."

"And you said you didn't know any foreign languages."

"Huh."

"Oh no, you're getting monosyllabic on me," she jokes, pressing herself closer to his side.

"What book do you need?" he asks, changing the topic of conversation, pleased to have her so close.

"I don't need one."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, I actually have to _go_ to the library. That way when I tell my mom that the library _unfortunately_ doesn't have a copy of the book I so desperately needed, I can at least pull the lie off."

She watches him try to force back a smile. "Does your mom realize that the library closes at nine, unofficially at seven?"

"Of course not – my mom only went to the library once just to get me my first library card. And what do you mean _unofficially_ at seven? How is that even possible?"

They reach the library and inside two women are putting on their coats and doing the final closing up. The door is already locked.

"The library still has to be open for another fifteen minutes! What are they _doing_?" Rory asks, a scandalized expression on her face.

"Told you. So, where to now?"

"Home…"

"Oh, come on. You have at _least_ until 9:15."

"My mom would _never_ believe it would take fifteen minutes to search all of Stars Hollow's library _and_ another fifteen minutes to walk back."

"Perhaps the librarians were generous and let you double-check the entire library, keeping it open longer."

She narrows her eyes at him. "How do you come up with such logical lies?"

"It's because I'm a hoodlum," he deadpans. "I also eat small children and steal gnomes from townies."

"What?"

He doesn't answer her, which makes her think that he revealed something just a bit personal.

"And you could always take the_ long_ way home…"

"What? If I take Peach Street instead of Tulip Lane?" she quips with sarcasm.

"I was thinking a little more roundabout."

"Oh geez, like walking to Stars Hollow High? You just want to go to the bridge."

"Perhaps," he says in a low voice, laying a kiss on her pulse point.

"I don't have _time_," she breathes out, her resolve quickly crumbling. _Not good_. Maybe she shouldn't have invited him – it's not like she didn't know that this was going to be his intention.

"Sure you do," he merely tells her and she's sold.

She kind of hates how he can do that to her already (and it's only the beginning).

"Fine. I'll take you up on that offer to push you into the lake, then."

He suddenly stops and there's a moment where she's staring into his eyes, wild and crazy with an inner spark she can't help but be drawn to, before he pulls her in for a fervent kiss. She runs her hands through his hair as one his hands gets lost in hers and the other steadies her by resting on her lower back.

She's grateful – this kiss is making her dizzy (in an oh, so good way).

As she tries to catch her breath a few minutes later, she asks, "What was that?"

He shrugs. "Just because I can," he answers, but she knows it's something else.

When they reach the bridge, she realizes that she referenced something he said over a year ago, before she considered having feelings for him. Did that mean something to him?

Her chest feels like it's inflating; she feels the same way whenever he remembers something obscure that she said.

She looks into his eyes, which look black in the dark, but the moonlight creates a _chiaroscuro_ effect on his face (how can he be that intriguingly beautiful?).

She kisses him this time and it's slow, but sweet – different from their previous kisses tonight. After a minute or so, she feels something wet on her cheek. Opening her eyes, she first glances at Jess, who looks strangely content. Huh, she never knew that. But then she notices the snow gently falling around them.

This has to be a sign of sorts.

She closes her eyes again and smiles against his mouth.

* * *

A/N: I don't think I'll ever be quite comfortable writing Literati fluff, but I hope this was somewhat enjoyable.

Please review!

PS. If you like Harry Potter and laughing, check out BurstAndBloom91's LiveJournal to read Harry Potter Facebook News Feed Edition!

MissGoalie


	75. Every Feeling That I Get

A/N: I intended for these lyrics to work with Jess…but then I found myself thinking about Logan instead. It's definitely because of the anger/hatred I get from this song. It's different from my usual stuff; it might be a bit confusing and for that I apologize.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_All the feelings that I get,_

_But I still don't miss you yet,_

_Only when I stop to think about it,_

_I hate everything about you;_

_Why do I love you?_

_- Three Days Grace_

Every Feeling That I Get

Logan Huntzberger considers himself to be a well-off person. He has a lot of things going for him: he's wealthy, intelligent, and he has an equally intelligent, attractive girlfriend (and said girlfriend would say the same about herself, except for the being wealthy part).

But seeing Rory stand next to this guy with the tousled dark hair and worn clothes sets something off in him. It's like he already knows that this guy is so involved in Rory and everything about her from just taking one look at him, before he even gets out of the car (and she would admit that he _is_ important in her life).

And Logan sees that look on her face: she was happy, and then her face just drops. It was miniscule, but it happened. She was comfortable, she was happy, and with Logan's appearance, she suddenly wasn't (and she would agree; she's waited so long for this moment, but now it's ruined with _his_ arrival).

Logan can't take his eyes off of this mystery guy. He carries himself so nonchalantly. It kind of reminds Logan of this guy from California who was in his Economics class last year, but it's not as severe. He definitely isn't wealthy, especially if that car outside the house is his. But…there's something in his eyes; he can't put his finger on it (and again, she would agree; _aren't they just _so_ alluring, darling?_).

"Logan!" Why does that sound so shrilly in his ears? (She's having problems faking happiness for the first time in a few months; it feels honest).

"Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" She's lying? (_Yes_). "Hey, when did you get back?"

"A couple of hours ago."

"Oh, I thought…I thought you were getting back tomorrow?" Why did she stutter? Why is she so nervous all of a sudden? It's not as if she were caught cheating. By why did it sound like she was…and why did it feel like she was? (_It's just so inexplicable, the two of us; don't worry your pretty little head about it_).

"I'd thought I'd surprise you, Ace." The smile on his face never felt faker (and she notes that it looks so fake; _you're not fooling anyone, babe_).

"Well, I'm glad you did because you get to meet my old friend. Jess…this is Logan, my boyfriend. Logan…this is Jess. He's in from out of town."

Logan and Jess stare at each other. Jess keeps looking back at Rory though, giving a reassuring smile or two before looking unnervingly into Logan's eyes (_It's scary, isn't it?_).

Rory starts rambling about old friends and the concept of it, and Logan tries to focus, but he can't, not when this _Jess_ is completely following every word of her incessant rambles and even laughing at what Logan assumes to be all the right moments. How can he _do_ that? (Oh, how Rory wishes she knew, too).

Logan holds out a hand. "How're you doing?" He grips his hand tightly.

"Okay," Jess says with this smile that irritates Logan. It's as if this were all _entertaining _for him. Like he'd seen it all before (_Oh, you don't even _know_ how right this observation is_). Who is this guy and what kind of role does he play in Rory's life? (_You already know the answer, Logan Huntzberger; don't play dumb, it's not attractive_).

Why does it seem like those two were standing so close together and she is just trying to stay out of Logan's arm's reach? (Because that's exactly what she's trying to do).

"We were just gonna go get a bite to eat," she explains and he can practically hear her screaming her unsaid words: _just let me go_.

"Great. Well how about we all go together, is that okay?" Logan says, ignoring her secret plea.

"Okay by me," Jess drawls, but it's full of sarcasm.

"Good."

"All right," Rory says hesitantly. "Good. We were actually at a loss for where to go, so you actually saved us," she continues to fill in awkward silence.

"Just call me Superman. Why don't you follow us?"

"Sure."

"Great."

Logan puts an arm around her shoulder, and he tries to ignore Rory reaching for his hand, pause, unsure if she should bother, and eventually lets him keep his hand firmly on her.

He looks over at Jess still standing there, and is surprised to see some shock in those dark eyes. Huh, so he is capable of outward emotion (and it took Rory too long to realize this).

It's Logan's goal this evening to rip this guy apart.

* * *

The ride is completely silent. Logan glances over at Rory, who is looking straight ahead, her lips pursed ever so slightly; she looks so much like Emily (Rory would agree; this tweed jacket is just so _uncomfortable_). Usually when they haven't seen each other in a while, she has a gleam in her eye and her smile never seems to fade.

She hasn't given him a real smile yet (_Because I'm not happy to see you; you ruined everything_).

_Who the fuck is this Jess guy? _It's the (multi) million-dollar question, and Logan _would_ pay over a million dollars to anyone who could give him a back-story because it seems that there's a lengthy one attached to him.

Logan checks his rearview mirror and sees Jess staring ahead, no emotions on his face. He watches Jess yawn once, but otherwise he doesn't do anything.

Logan becomes disgusted with the idea that suddenly _one night_ with an ex-boyfriend (he doesn't know that's what he is for sure, but he's willing to bet his trust fund that's the truth) will suddenly bring back all the _good_ times they had. Clearly there was a reason why they broke up in the first place.

Why she's not with him and why she's with Logan right now.

Feeling more confident, he reaches for the flask inside his coat jacket. He hears Rory snort and looks over to find her smiling, but it looks somewhat twisted (_Because at least when I was in the car with Jess, he wasn't drinking_).

"Oh, the irony. If my mom could see me now," she whispers to herself before holding back a laugh.

Logan ignores her and takes a generous sip of alcohol.

* * *

"I'm good with this place."

"A little pointer: don't come on folk night."

"Yeah, I'm not a big fan of folk music."

"That's something we have in common."

"Great."

Jess glances at Rory, who smiles back apologetically, as if Logan is her misbehaving son who is acting out again (_Well, if the shoes _fit_…_).

"Where is a waitress? Yo, yo. Right here. Uh, another Macallan's neat and, Jess, another brew?" (Rory is trying so hard to pretend that this isn't her life right now).

"Still working on this one."

"Another one. Just in case," Logan tells the waitress.

"So, we should probably order. It's a big menu, so if you need guidance –" Rory starts.

"I'm not hungry," Jess says, looking at Rory in a way that just pisses Logan off; it's as if the punk is _actually_ trying to block him out.

"You're not hungry?" Logan interjects.

"Nope."

"Thought the whole point was you two were going to get something to _eat_," Logan continues, accentuating the last word (it's like something nasty is crawling on her skin).

"And talk," Rory adds.

"Well, yes. It's a given that you're going to talk while you eat. You know, the chef de cuisine will gladly make anything you want if nothing there appeals."

She sighs and leans back. "The burgers are good here."

"Maybe a burger."

"Get one of those fancy ones, too. It's on me so don't let the price stop you," Logan adds because he has to assert his presence (_because God _forbid_ someone else has the spotlight_, she would quip with an eye-roll).

"I'll pay for my own," Jess says, as if he has something to prove (_but that's not it at all; he never felt the need to prove anything to anyone who wasn't worth it. He can't get Jess after ten minutes, let alone four years_).

"Good man." Logan opens his menu. "So, how long have you two known each other."

"A while," Jess says in a strange tone (Rory gets it – it somehow feels like her whole life).

"You date?"

"Yes. We used to date."

"Ah. No hemming, no hawing. Good course of action. So. Were you two high school sweethearts? Rock around the clock, two straws in the milkshake?"

"Logan," she interjects, her mouth twisting into an ugly expression (_why am I dating him again?_).

"Hey, did we cheers? I don't think we cheered. That's bad luck. Let's cheers."

"I think we did already. Twice."

"Well, let's do it again. Cheers."

Jess grudgingly lifts his glass and clinks it on Logan's. Rory half-heartedly lifts her glass, not bothering to help the situation. "Cheers." They drink.

"So. What do you do, Jess?" Logan inquires, wanting Jess to _stop_ sneaking glances at _his_ girlfriend.

"Oh, this and that."

"Describe the _this_, describe the _that_."

"He _writes_," Rory states and Logan can feel her steely gaze on the side of his face, but he continues to face down Jess.

"You write? Impressive. What do you write?"

"Nothing important," Jess states with raised eyebrows (Why had she never realized that he has the patience of a saint?).

"He wrote a book."

"Oh. You penned the great American novel, Jess?"

"Wasn't quite that ambitious."

"So what are we talking here? Short novel? Kafka length, or longer: Dos Pasos? Tolstoy? Or longer? Rubert Musil? Proust? I'm not throwing you with these names, am I?" (_Logan, you arrogant son of a bitch, you lost that battle of wits long before it even started_).

Jess smirks. "You seem very obsessed with _length_."

"I'm just trying to get a picture in my head, that's all."

"It's a short novel!" Rory says and Logan looks to her, giving up on getting any information out of him (_It's not that easy, is it?_).

"Any good?"

"I haven't read it yet."

"Yet?" He turns to Jess. "Well, at least you have one reader. That's something."

"Yeah."

"You know, I should just write down all my random thoughts and stuff that happens to me and conversations I have and just add a bunch of 'he said, she saids' and get it published. You got a copy on you?"

"No."

"You should send me a copy."

"Sure. Where do I send it? The blonde dick at Yale?"

"Jess," she says, _the corner of her mouth twitching_ (he had it coming - "Cell Block Tango" style).

"Whoa, whoa, we're just trying to keep it friendly here, buddy!"

"Get out of my way," Jess says calmly, a cold look in his eyes that Logan knew if he were sober, he would take a step back.

When he's half way out the door, he says, "Forget him, Rory."

"Don't follow me," she tells him sternly before leaving him alone.

The guy's a dick (_no, Logan, _you're_ the dick_).

(_You need to get out of my life, right now_).

* * *

A/N: I never noticed it until I was watching this scene a million times over: after Jess says the "blonde dick at Yale," comment look at Rory's face. She's CLEARLY amused by his retort.

Even Rory agrees that he's a dick (at least in this scene, anyway).

Please review!

MissGoalie


	76. These Mistakes You've Made

A/N: It was one of those rare but welcome times when writing this was like word vomit – it just poured out of me without much thought.

Dedicated to **ICanSeeYourFace** since she reminded me of how lovely this song is.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,_

_But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles_

_– Anna Nalick_

These Mistakes You've Made

Rory Gilmore isn't known for making mistakes. She definitely wouldn't call herself perfect, but she considers herself to be very considerate and thoughtful – making sure to go over every possible choice and outcome before taking action.

It's just the way she's always been, nothing much more to it. Besides, she likes making people happy; it makes her happy.

At least, it used to.

Crazy hair and lazy smirks and literature references became her undoing.

It's kind of the greatest thing ever.

Stars Hollow's Town Princess is a hard title to live up to, believe it or not.

There's misunderstandings and hidden resentment and kisses worth at least five bucks and warmth and swapped books (she's still missing a few, but can't bring herself to replace them). It's so much more than she expected and when he leaves her, she wonders if it was all worth it.

As she's trying to fall asleep in the first hostel of the grand summer trip around Europe, she vehemently decides that it wasn't.

The entire thing was a mistake. She gave up the perfect boyfriend for _him_? He has more issues than anyone she's ever met and he was just so goddamn _frustrating_. These past few months were a nightmare.

She chose wrong and she paid the price.

Time to move on.

Funny story: she can't.

He comes to her mind suddenly at random points. In a lecture, walking to a coffee trolley, paying someone so she could be at her study tree (what the _hell_ would he say if he heard about that? Would he laugh, finding it endearing? Or would he just think she went off the deep end, which might be possible? She hasn't felt quite right in a while).

Why is Yale not perfect? Why is this all not happening like it should be?

She's beginning to wonder if choosing Yale was a mistake also, which _can't_ be. Picking the wrong college just _isn't_ acceptable – it's a mistake of epic proportions that's just too out of character for Rory Leigh Gilmore.

Kind of like sleeping with your _married_ ex-boyfriend. Right.

She's choking on her tears and her chest is about to collapse; she can't recover from this – she can finally make those great mistakes like everyone else.

She begins to wonder if some mistakes are just better than others, like choosing the lesser of two evils, because as she's with her grandma, touring Europe the _proper way_, she thinks about crazy hair and lazy smirks and literature references – would it have been better to run away with him? There were options – it could've been for the night, the week, the summer, (or maybe even forever – it _was_ an option. Was.).

What happened to the Rory who logically thought out every possible option before making a choice?

But then Dean is no longer _Lindsay's Dean_ and she never thinks that again – in the end, she made the right choice. She was definitely losing her mind there for a second – since when was _he_ ever a _possibly good choice_? He's always and will always remain a personification of wrong choices (no matter how right they felt).

Maybe that trip with Emily sparked something in her because now she can spend time with people of high society and not feel so out of place. She doesn't know if this is growing up or something else, maybe not so good. But it feels good, which she hasn't felt in a while, so she'll go along with it for as long as she can.

Watching Dean walk away from her life for the final time is like closing a book: somewhat sad, but knowing that it's just done.

The world keeps turning, you know?

But it _definitely _stops when she catches sight of those eyes that always did something to her heart; those brown eyes with hints of forest green and specks of gold always fascinated her.

He's become someone worth being proud of and he's made choices that are definitely not mistakes.

She's smiling for the first time in months because if there's one person in this world who deserves good things it's him.

It took her way too long to realize this, that maybe all this time has been just as hard, maybe even harder, for him.

Talking with him, seeing him again makes her come to another painful realization: choosing him was never a mistake – the way it ended was tragic and a mistake on both their parts.

She regrets the ending, but not anything else. Most of it was pretty wonderful.

And hearing Logan label them as _high school sweethearts – rock around the clock, two straws in the milkshake_ makes her want to scream. How _dare_ he try to belittle something that changed her forever? If it weren't for him, she _never_ would've given Logan a chance.

Which, right now, she regrets. A lot.

Kind of like using her ex-boyfriend to get back at her current one. Right.

She only regrets it because he's so much better than that. But that kiss, however, couldn't be a mistake – that never felt wrong to her. It couldn't.

She doesn't want to think about what that means because she and Logan have finally gotten over this cheating thing, which is all she wanted in the first place.

But it's only a matter of time before this relationship ends because, while it's fun and nice, it's not forever.

Nothing really is, but you get the point.

But, if forever did exist, it would be cramped margin notes that she would never erase and secluded town-landmark bridges and Clash lyrics and ice cream in cones, always and forever, and true smiles that somehow make everything else seem insignificant.

* * *

A/N: Random question that I just thought of - does _Gilmore Girls_ have a Halloween-themed episode? I feel like the show never did...but I could be wrong.

Please review!

MissGoaie


	77. Please Come Back

A/N: Wanting to listen to something different during my morning bus ride, I put my "hip-hop/rap/r&b" genre on shuffle. This song came up, bringing up good times, and it reminded me of Rory, which made me really sad for some reason (normally I never sympathize with her haha).

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I want you to know it's a little fucked up_

_That I'm stuck here waitin', no longer debatin',_

_Tired of sittin' and hatin' and makin' these excuses_

_For why you're not around and feeling so useless._

_It seems one thing has been true all along,_

_You don't really know what you got 'til it's gone;_

_I guess I've had it with you_

_- Fort Minor_

Please Come Back

Maybe if he managed to contact her within the first week or so, she could've pushed away all those feelings of hurt and abandonment and kept him. No, she would've, she definitely would've. Thinking about him with that look on his face after that fight…

It always brings about a fresh wave of tears.

He shouldn't be alone, he really shouldn't. Why is he always alone?

Why does _she_ feel alone now?

She's grateful for being Valedictorian solely because of how much work she has to get done; she can't focus on the gaping hole in her heart while she's planning speeches and doing last-minute assignments.

But come three o'clock in the morning, half her pillow is already damp and she has to flip it over.

She really needs to sleep with a towel over her pillow or something. But that would just cause problems with Lorelai, who thinks Rory's okay, which she is. Most of the time. Sort of. Not really.

Never.

She crushes her face into her pillow to muffle a choking sob. There's no way she can do this anymore; it has to end. As much as she doesn't want it to…there's no point. Waiting like this is _killing_ her. He's never coming back; he hates this town and only stuck around for her. He's _not_ coming back; get over it.

_Get over it, Gilmore._

But a phone call would be nice…is that too much to ask for?

It would've been good if he called…now she doesn't want him because that will mean she has to end it. She'll have to muster up strength she doesn't think she has in the first place and tell him it's done. They'll be nothing.

Not that _this_ is any better.

But at least it's something.

And although she doesn't want to admit it, she'd rather have _something_ with him than _nothing_. He's done something to her and without him here…

She curls into herself, hoping that she'll be able to say the words without cracking.

This isn't normal, not at all. It can't be. Does this happen to everyone?

She really hopes it does just so she won't have to think about how much greater this loss really is.

* * *

After talking to Lane about losing Dave, Rory realizes what she's feared all along.

But she'll never say it, ever.

* * *

A/N: I can only say one thing, really: Harry-freaking-Potter. PM me if you want to chat about it!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	78. I Can't Help It, Baby, This Is Who I Am

A/N: This song has a lot of lyrics that pertain to Jess and Rory, so I decided to just do (almost) the entire song.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I loved you, and I should have said it_

_But tell me just what has it ever meant?_

_- Jimmy Eat World_

I Can't Help It, Baby, This Is Who I Am

**Well, you're just across the street; looks a mile to my feet.**

Jess watches her as she walks past the diner, his feet itching run after her and just _talk_. Why can't he talk? She talks so much and easily than he can, can't she do it for him? But she's beginning to clam up, too. And it's all just falling apart.

**I want to go to you.**

**

* * *

**

**Funny how I'm nervous still; I've always been the easy kill.**

Rory knows she should've seen this coming; he's done it before. But it doesn't make this any less painful. She lets guys in and they always manage to make her cry, especially on their second chances. Maybe she just sets herself up for it.

**I guess I always will.**

**

* * *

**

**Could it by that everything goes 'round by chance?**

Was it chance that brought Jess to Stars Hollow, she thinks to herself as she walks back to her house, flipping through _Howl_ the entire journey back. Chance brought this quick, intelligent, (secretly) thoughtful boy to her small town?

* * *

**Or only one way that it was always meant to be?**

He wants her to understand that they are so much bigger than she's allowing herself to see. _You know we're supposed to be together. _But when he says these words, she doesn't comprehend. Isn't she supposed to be the actual smart one?

* * *

**You kill me, you always know the perfect thing to say.**

He clenches and unclenches his jaw as he listens to her tell him off for all the bad he's done. Gripping the payphone tightly, he already knows she's right about everything. This guilt is going to eat away at him.

* * *

**I can picture your face well, from the bar in my hotel.**

The pub barista with ocean eyes quietly slips him a few drinks and Rory immediately comes to his mind. No, he's not ready for her, not yet. He's still has to figure stuff out. But he can't help but think he's just one state away from her; they're both in the tri-state area and that's about as close as he'll allow himself to be.

**I wish I'd go to you.**

**

* * *

**

**I pick up put down the phone.**

He calls a lot but every time, _every time_ he hears her voice, his throat closes up and he slams the phone back into its cradle. He's wasted a lot of quarters on this failed attempt at contacting her. Maybe this is his subconscious telling him that he's supposed to be alone.

**Like your favorite Heatmeiser song goes, "It's just like being alone."**

**

* * *

**

**Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain.**

She's just rejected him and he's desperate. With only a quarter in his pocket, he goes into this rundown church to sleep and he wonders when the hell everything is going to be okay. He's starting to get tired and he's wondering if there's a point to any of this.

**I need answers for what all the waiting I've done means.**

**

* * *

**

**You kill me; you've got some nerve, but can't face your mistakes.**

She's only upset when he runs away after his confession because whenever he runs away, it means he made a mistake. Does that mean his confession was a mistake? Or that falling for her was a mistake in itself?

* * *

**So go on, love, leave while there's still hope for escape.**

She knew Stars Hollow was too big for Jess and she knew that eventually he was going to leave. So when she's told that Jess is _gone_, she swallows back the bitter taste that forms in her mouth and knows that this might actually be for the best. She just hopes that he feels some remorse for leaving her without a word.

**There's so much ahead, so much regret.**

**

* * *

**

**I know what you want to say.**

The last time she sees Jess on that bus is full of subtexts; the silence in between their meaningless words is filled with everything they can never say. _I want to stay for you, but I just can't. Please, stay, we can figure this out._ But they both know that this is the end, no matter how badly it hurts.

**I know it but can't help feeling differently.**

**

* * *

**

**Sorry, sorry, but I can't just go turn off how I feel.**

Even though Luke tells Jess that he and Rory are ancient history, it stills feels raw to him. The pain Jess gets in his chest hasn't gone away, one year after everything shattered. Although Stars Hollow residents, Lorelai, and on certain circumstances Luke and Rory don't know this, his emotions are fucking _there_ and he feels every single one of them.

* * *

**I know what I should do, but I just can't walk away.**

She always accuses him of running away, but as she walks out of Truncheon Books, he wants to tell her off. Yeah, he may have run away, but he grew up. He doesn't run anymore. And what about her? She's always been a runner, avoiding confrontations or problems that could mess up her world.

While this may be enough for him to forget about her, he can't help but think that even though she runs away, she always manages to come back to him. He's the one exception, which kills him, making him incapable of walking away from this. From her.

* * *

A/N: I don't know whether this is just my being creative, or my indecisiveness to pick lyrics. Well, either way, leave a review to let me know what you think!

P.S. I'm back in the US!

MissGoalie


	79. If This Is A Lesson In Love…

A/N: I was going through some artists that my parents listened to when I was little kid and I found this one, which I always loved for some reason.

P.S. Some of you are going to seriously love me for this.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_The trust of a woman in his hand,_

_But he was little boy, not a man._

_You loved him stronger than he could feel,_

_Yeah he was wrapped up in himself like an orange peel._

_- John Hiatt_

If This Is A Lesson In Love, Well What's It For?

It's her last day in London and she's sitting opposite _Please sir, can I have some more?_ Oliver.

Lorelai _still_ doesn't know about him, which Rory wants to keep that way. She doesn't know why, exactly, but it's probably because Oliver is the only person in this world who actually _knows_ how badly she's handling the _Jess thing_.

It's rather honest. Or at least it feels that way.

She found him as she and her mom were walking back to the hostel to take a "power nap" before hitting the streets again. She secretly held up a finger, signaling him that she'd be down in a bit.

They haven't said anything for the past few minutes.

"How are you doing?" he inquires, the rim of the coffee cup resting against his lips.

She shrugs. "Okay."

He nods, taking a sip. After placing the cup on its saucer, he looks her in the eye and says, "Try again?"

"Bad."

His eyes soften. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't want sympathy. At this point, she wants _answers_.

She never met a person who wouldn't lower his or her guard for her. She has a very trusting face, she thinks. _Like Bambi_, her mother always says. Who can resist those large blue eyes and that honest smile?

Apparently he could.

Sometimes she thinks she reached him when he mentioned his favorite lyric in a song or when he told her a short story of a moment in New York. But then he hid within himself and she couldn't get him to say a word.

It didn't help that she always seemed to trip up in that department when it came to him.

She didn't get why he hung on to those walls around himself – he was in _Stars Hollow_! He has a guardian (had) and he has _her _(had…she thinks). Wasn't that enough?

Apparently she wasn't.

"I don't get it," she states flatly, looking into her cappuccino. She doesn't really like it – she wants _American coffee_, damn it.

Oliver sighs, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. He knows what she's talking about. She stares at him, wondering if she'll ever find a guy attractive again. She _knows_ he's good looking, but she feels nothing.

She wonders if it's the lack of sleep – it's been a few days.

"Can you blame him for wanting to meet his dad?"

"No, I blame him for _running away_ like a stupid boy," she retorts, crossing her arms, suddenly feeling like a stupid girl.

He lowers his head so he can stare at her. She kind of hates that he has brown eyes – she doesn't want to see another boy with brown eyes. Why did she agree to go to coffee with him?

"You side with him, don't you?" she states without really asking, shaking her head. "I don't know why I expected any sort of understanding since you are, after all, of the opposite sex and _would_ agree with someone of your gender and just _automatically_ write me off as some clingy girlfriend who doesn't care about him. And it's not true. I _care_ about him. A lot. Too much. I mean I –" she cuts herself off because she _can't_ say those words that she told Dean she freely. This is different. It hurts more.

His eyes soften. "You're both hurting," he tells her.

She brings the coffee cup to her lips. _She's_ hurting, yes, but Jess? No, come on.

"I'm serious. I'm a guy; I know these things. Trust me – he's probably in worse shape than you are."

She snorts into her cup.

"Fine, don't believe me. You'll see soon enough."

"I'll probably never see him again."

"Ah, don't count on that," he says, sounding wise, which she hates. She doesn't _want_ him to be right.

But she knows he is.

"It better be killing him," she mutters.

He exhales through his nose. "More than you'll ever know," he says, but she doesn't know if he meant for her to really hear it.

They drink in silence because she's so used it by now.

* * *

"Why haven't you snogged me?" she asks as he's walking her back to her hostel.

He can't help but laugh at her attempt to use British slang. "_Snogged _you?"

She flushes. "Yeah. I mean…I don't know…"

He reaches into his back pocket for his cigarettes. "Because I lost already."

She cocks her head to the side. "What?"

He pulls a cigarette out. "You're going to compare and it's going to feel worse than what you had with him. He wins. He'll always win. At least for a little while."

Her face falls.

"I know," he says in a comforting way.

"I kind of want to kiss you," she tells him.

"I do, too. But we're not going to."

Tears fill her eyes and her cheeks are blotchy. "I love him," she says so quietly, but he hears her.

"I know."

"But nobody knows."

"I do."

She nods, a tear falling out of her eye.

"You should go."

She bites her bottom lip hard. He wonders if he's reminding her of _him_ a bit too much.

"Yeah. We're leaving for Dublin tomorrow."

He nods. "Cool. I like Dublin."

"We think Bono's supposed to be there."

"Your future husband?"

"My mom's," she answers with a small smile.

"Gotcha."

She walks up to him and kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you."

He envelops her into a hug. "You should talk to someone about this. Someone who really knows you."

She buries her face in his sweater. "I will," she says, but it's obvious she's lying.

He sighs. "Okay."

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed Oliver. He's like my love child...the father being either Alex Pettyfer or Aaron Johnson. XD

Please review!

MissGoalie


	80. Drop Everything Now

A/N: As forewarned, another Taylor Swift-inspired oneshot!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Get me with those green eyes, baby,_

_As the lights go down._

_Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around_

'_Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile._

_My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea;_

_You touch me once and it's really something._

_- Taylor Swift_

Drop Everything Now

_Think how dull your life would be without me_.

Life is dull without Jess Mariano, as he so rightfully stated that night in her car.

She feels somewhat off and it's not just because she can't use her left hand properly.

It doesn't hit her what's really the cause until she answers the phone and hears his voice, which sends shocks down her spine and she can feel the ghost of his soft touch on her fractured wrist, under the cast.

When she hangs up, the empty feelings comes back in full force and she has to lie down so she can gather her wits and come up with a suitable excuse as to who could possibly call her past nine because Jess is still number one on Lorelai's _kill list_.

Rory wonders if that will ever change with time, but she thinks not.

She lies through her teeth that it was Dean, asking her about a paper.

It gets worse when she's listening to Paris ramble about her advisor. College, the _right _track…

Everything just sounds muted and dull and what happened to green trees and brightness of spring? She feels like she's in a bubble and just wants to scream or pop it or _something_.

She stops walking, thinking about what she wants, which she never does. Sure, there are days when she doesn't want to go to school, but that _never_ caused her to actually stop in front of the Chilton's grand oak doors.

Without much thought involve, she just turns around and the farther away she gets from Chilton, the more she can hear and see and feel.

She heads to the bus station and she has the inexplicable urge, desire, _whatever_ to see Jess. That conversation on the phone left her…

Yearning? She doesn't know because she's never really felt this way about anyone before, but it sounds like the right emotional range.

She keeps thinking about reaching into her backpack and reading her book, but she can't bring herself to. She's watching the traffic and the trees and everything go by her and she knows that this is absolute insanity, but she doesn't delve deeper than that for once in her life.

It's rather refreshing and daring and she smells freedom in the air when she steps onto the streets of New York City.

She stumbles her way through the city, stopping at least eight people on her way to Washington Square Park. When she finally makes it and spots him, her heart is hammering in her chest and she just _loves_ the feeling of being alive.

Because this is living, seeing his face for the first time in weeks and seeing his trying to hold back a happy grin. It feels right falling into step with him as he leads her around this city with such grace and agility that her heart pangs again (it's that yearning or something equivalent to that).

She feels better than she has in a while. She always enjoyed spending time with Jess, but this is different. Not having Stars Hollow closing in on them is liberating and comforting at the same time.

She also can't deny the thrill of his arm around her waist in the subway when it jerks forward for the first time.

But when the day ends and reality comes crashing into her, she feels it all slipping away when she tells him goodbye.

She doesn't want this to be the last time seeing him because her life isn't quite the same without him in it.

(She can't remember how she coped before).

Despite missing Lorelai's graduation and feeling like utter garbage about it, there was something redeeming about that day.

She closes her eyes and sees him, aftermath tingles sparking under her skin.

* * *

A/N: I'm depressed over the Jets'...I don't know what to call last night, to be frank. But it was a disaster and it crushed my soul, so review to make me feel better, yes?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	81. The Lightning Strike

A/N: Words cannot describe how much I adore this Snow Patrol song. I figured I'd do this like my song drabbles (if you want to read what I did for Literati, go to the jessrory community on LJ. I think it's still the latest comment. If you want a direct link, review :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

The Lightning Strike

**i. what if this storm ends?**

_be the lightning in me that strikes relentless._

Jess stares at Rory from across the diner, ignoring the written words in front of him because they're just not doing it for him anymore. She's watching the rain pour outside; her eyes look extremely blue in contrast to the gray everything.

(Everything is gray except her).

He wants her more than he can express, but she's already made it perfectly clear that she's satisfied with her life without him. Well, at least not in the way that he wants to be.

But he catches her glancing back at him and he wonders how long she's going to put up a fight because it's starting to get old. And annoying. Not to mention a bit painful.

It comes to a boiling point, which comes and goes quickly and soon he's kissing her like he's wanted to for so long and he can feel something exciting and electrical happening around them, in between them, inside them.

It's extreme – they're floating in a storm, going wherever the waves crash them. Some days it's perfection, other times they're fighting to breathe because it's all just too much.

He never wants her out of his being, ever.

It's addicting and he can feel it all slipping away as summer starts to come. They're drifting apart and he doesn't know if it's because of circumstances or if it's just them (or her, or him), or maybe if it's just not the right time anymore.

He leaves and the storm surrounding them is internalized within him and it rattles in his chest with every step that he takes (every word he writes).

It's overwhelming, like everything else that's JessandRory.

**ii. the sunlight through the flags**

_these accidents of faith and nature_

_they tend to stick in the spokes of you_

_but every now and then the trend bucks_

_and you're repaired by more than glue._

He's somewhat comforted by his random encounters with Rory. He doesn't know why, especially since they're heart wrenching for both of them, but he likes how they'll always be drawn back to each other.

That's kind of nice in a way; he can't imagine not having her in his life.

It seems bad now: absurd declarations of love and out of place propositions in college dorms, but it's the final darkness before the dawn (at least he hopes – there's only so much bad decision making he can do in his life without learning a thing or two).

He knows without a doubt that everything will be calm once again; he can feel it.

He hasn't seen her in over a year and he's doing okay. More than okay, some days. He kind of wants to share it with her, and he will, but there's a right time and place for everything when the universe isn't conspiring.

When his book is finally published, he realizes that this is it. He wonders if this is a whacky combination of randomness, coincidence, fate, and active choice.

He can never tell when it comes to her.

(And maybe that's the beauty of it).

**iii. daybreak**

_something was bound to go right sometime today_

_all these broken pieces fit together to make a perfect picture of us._

It's been a long time since they've been able to smile at each other properly and she has to admit that she's missed it a lot.

The chaotic storm, which used to rage behind those dark eyes has cleared away to reveal that light she used to catch every once in a while if she were lucky.

Her fingertips tremble as she scans his book, unable to believe that Jess is now that person she knew he could be. She hasn't felt this kind of pride before, but it uplifts her more than anything else she's ever experienced.

It's probably because his standing in front of her is proof that she's managed to do one truly incredible thing in her life.

Her words of thanks are on her tongue, wondering how he would react knowing that he changed her, too, and not in the bad way that everyone expected.

Maybe that's too much for now.

But she knows now that this is a new start for them and it feels fresh like the first day of the New Year, or that first hour of dawn as the sky fills with a myriad of colors that she never knew existed.

After he leaves her alone with his book, she starts to read, but before she gets into it, she beams.

When they're together, there's something incredible about it that she hasn't had with anyone else.

(And she wouldn't want to because it's just _theirs_).

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it/I did this song justice because it is quite epic.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	82. Chance Taker, Heartbreaker

A/N: This was inspired by talking with **luvtheheaven**, who also wrote a similar oneshot, which you should check out because I bet it's great (I plan on reading it as soon as this is posted). So, this is dedicated to her because she's a super awesome vidder on YouTube and she's growing into an equally awesome writer =)

Just so y'all know – we haven't read each other's and if there are some similar lines…well…that's the nature of the beast, I suppose. But we're well aware of our similar oneshots :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Yeah I'm the first to fall,_

_And the last to know_

_Where'd you go?_

_Now I'm heels over head,_

_I'm hangin' upside-down,_

_Thinkin' how you left me for dead,_

_California bound._

_– Boys Like Girls_

Chance Talker, Heartbreaker

Rory's supposed to be getting some much needed sleep the night before her graduation. She shouldn't be walking around Stars Hollow stupidly hoping to find something she knows is gone.

Despite the emptiness of the streets, she still feels safe. In fact, she likes the town when it's devoid of life. She wonders if Jess ever discovered the beauty of it.

It doesn't matter if he did or didn't because he's still not here and it doesn't make a difference.

She finds herself standing in front of Luke's Diner and she's surprised to find him still there, cleaning. She knocks on the door before she can stop herself.

He whips his head up and her breath catches in her throat, knowing that some irrational part of his heart was hoping that it was him. She feels that way every time she turns a corner.

He drops the rag and heads over to the door, unlocking it for her.

"Hey, Luke," she says, unable to look him directly in the eye.

"Hi, Rory," he greets in his usual gruff voice, shutting the door behind her before going back to the counter. "Do you want coffee? I could make you a pot."

She exhales a bit shakily. "Sure. Yeah. Thanks."

He nods and busies himself with fixing her coffee.

Biting her lip, she slowly walks to the counter, inadvertently taking a seat on the stool that's right in front of the curtain leading to the apartment.

She clenches her jaw and looks down at the counter, which hasn't been this clean since…_ever_.

And he's back to scrubbing.

Everyone has their way of grieving, she supposes.

(She still has to find hers).

"Do you know where he is?" she asks, her voice quavering just a bit.

He stops moving to look at her for a moment. Then he sighs and looks down at the counter. "His dad showed up the other day. Completely out of the blue," he explains in a low voice.

She inhales sharply. _Why didn't he tell her?_

"I think…I think he went off to find him."

Tears are filling her eyes too quickly for her to stop them and they're rolling down her cheeks. She exhales in a sob, bringing a hand quickly to her mouth to muffle the sounds. Can't this pain just _go away_?

"I'm sorry," Luke says, sounding heartbroken.

She wipes the tears from her face and tries to smile at him. "It's fine. I'm fine, really. I'm just…overly stressed from…everything."

She wants to spare Luke the truth. Besides, she can't cry in her own house right now and this is the next best place.

"Yeah…your mom said you were made Valedictorian?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"That's…amazing. Really."

He pours her coffee into a green mug and she wishes it didn't remind her of his eyes.

"I take it he's not graduating, either," Rory says after a few moments, picking up the mug and taking a tentative sip. It burns her tongue.

This time Luke looks ready to cry. "No. He missed too much."

She nods, staring into her coffee. _Liar, liar,_ _Pinocchio_.

Why he always felt the need to lie to _her_, she'll never understand.

"I kicked him out," he blurts, bringing his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. "He was just…and we were…I just _lost_ it and I told him that he had to leave and I think –"

"Luke. It's not your fault he left. He left because he wanted to," Rory says in a quiet voice, taking another sip again but not really tasting it.

"I just…I didn't think he'd…"

She grips the mug tighter. "Yeah, well…"

They don't speak as she finishes her coffee.

"I should go home. Sleep," Rory says, getting off the stool. "Thanks for the coffee. I'll see you in a few hours."

Luke gives her a weak smile. "'Night, Rory."

She can't leave the diner fast enough.

Well, it's better off this way, right? What were she and Jess going to do anyway? She's going to Yale and start a whole new life – and he was just going to stay in Stars Hollow? Please – his leaving shouldn't hurt her as much as it does.

It wouldn't have been as bad if he didn't _look it up_.

No, it still would've been just as bad – she always assumed they would stay together. But for how long? She couldn't say – she couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

She still can't.

She wishes that she could talk to him. That's what's killing her the most.

They never did talk a lot, did they?

She brings a hand to her chest, the pain becoming unbearable. Why wasn't it as bad with Dean?

_It's because your heart was never really broken before._

No, she _refuses_ to believe that he broke her heart, that he had (has) that much power over her.

She finds herself on the bridge and she wonders why the _hell_ that's autopilot for her.

Her cell phone rings in her back pocket.

She answers it with a somewhat broken, "Hello?"

The dialer hangs up immediately.

Her breath stills, the silence around her suddenly too loud.

* * *

A/N: I hope this was okay!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	83. Leave It Up To Destiny

A/N: Because Adam Brody and Milo Ventimiglia should've gotten a scene alone together, that's why.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I don't know when I'll see her,_

_But I'm sure that I will._

_It's just a matter of time_

_Some more time to kill._

_– Duncan Sheik_

Leave It Up To Destiny

He's walking down the boardwalk on a hot, cloudless day. He hates doing that. There are way too many happy people for his taste. Perhaps he's a pessimist, or maybe he's just so miserable himself that he can't stand to see people so happy-go-lucky.

There's a girl rollerblading with a grin on her face. There's a gang of boys skateboarding in a clump, taking up too much room. There's an elderly couple strolling together with linked arms. There's Dave Rygalski walking with his guitar. There's –

Wait, _what_?

"Dave?" Jess finds himself questioning out loud, coming to a complete stop.

The guy in question looks back and his eyes light up with recognition. "Jess! Wow. Hey. What a surprise. What's up, man?" he exclaims cheerfully. He glances to the side and finds a bench off the boardwalk.

Jess takes a seat next to Dave on the bench as he props his guitar against the bench.

"Nothing. You?"

"I'm going to start college here in a few days. You?"

Jess internally winces. "I'm crashing with my dad."

Dave nods. "That's cool." He sighs. "I miss the east coast. It's great here, don't get me wrong. The weather is fantastic, the scene is cool…it's just…I don't know. There's something about it. It's a completely different world."

"You've got that right," Jess mutters as he watches a woman stare up at the sky, a pleasant, but vacant expression on her face as she walks across the beach.

Dave follows his line of sight and chuckles. "When did you get here?"

"June."

Dave nods. "Right."

They sit in silence.

"You're still…?" Jess starts, trailing off.

"Yeah. We're trying out long distance."

Jess nods.

Dave looks at Jess and it seems as if he wants to say something, but they don't know each other that well and they're extremely uncomfortable with the fact that their girlfriends (or former-girlfriend, in Jess' case) are best friends.

"I get it…if it's any sort of consolation," Dave ends up saying.

"At least someone does." Because Jess still doesn't, not really.

"You know…if you want…I could talk to Lane and –" Dave starts, but shuts up when he sees Jess' face, which clearly reads, _don't get involved with my shit._ "Right. Okay."

"You plan on leaving?" Dave inquires after another few minutes of silence.

"Yeah."

"So…this is it. I suppose."

Jess nods.

Dave sticks out his hand, which Jess shakes briefly. "Bye, Jess. It was good while it lasted."

Jess smiles briefly. "Bye, Dave," he says, hating that word like no other.

Dave gathers his belongings and is about to walk away when Jess adds, "For the record, I liked your band. I wasn't just saying that to appease…her," he trails off, not wanting to say her name quite yet.

Dave grins. "Thanks. I appreciate it. And, you know, for the record, I think you and Rory still have something. I wouldn't say it's over quite yet. Fate should take care of it."

Jess watches Dave disappear into the crowd of people and kind of wishes he could think like that. And he thinks that maybe, just a little part of him will miss Dave, the only other sane person he met in Stars Hollow.

He exhales before standing up and going in the opposite direction.

* * *

A/N: …And then Dave found a Jewish family in Orange County and ended up falling in love with a slutty brunette who changed her ways.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	84. Mindset

A/N: This is from one of my favorite movie soundtracks ever. It's just too bad the movie didn't quite live up to my expectations…

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I'm looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find._

_Without a trust or flaming fields, am I too dumb to refine?_

_- The Shins_

Mindset

For the first time in Jess Mariano's life, he thinks that Liz is going to be okay, which is mind-boggling. But there's no denying that she's no longer than person who leaves six-year-olds unattended or allows boyfriends to wreck their home.

He doesn't quite know how to act around this new Liz because he's always expected the worst from her; he's uncomfortable with this and he doesn't know if it's because it's so unfamiliar or because he's afraid that she'll revert back to what she was.

He pushes those dark thoughts to the back of his mind because he can't think like that while she's (soberly) smiling at TJ like he's the center of her universe.

He momentarily wonders what that's like.

"You made her really happy," Luke says quietly in his ear.

Jess nods once, not looking away from the newlyweds. "I know."

"Thank you."

Jess clenches his jaw.

"It's weird seeing her like this, huh."

Jess closes his eyes briefly.

Luke places a hand on Jess' shoulder and squeezes it. Jess wishes he would stop because he can't deal with this right now on top of everything else.

Then Luke removes it and adds, "You can leave if you want, you know. I get it. And Liz already saw you and all…"

Jess parts his lips, about to say _sure_, but his voice gets stuck in his throat so he just nods again. "In a bit," he manages to say a little later.

Luke heads away and somehow gets roped into a discussion with the juggler and Jess heads towards the buffet to sneak another pastry. He doubts he'll eat as well in a while, so might as well stuff his face.

He watches Liz and TJ dance with a sickening amount of love on their expressions and he faintly smiles at Luke and Lorelai dancing (who'd of thought Luke could be graceful?) and he's hit with a painful realization that he doesn't fit in this picture at all.

He wonders if he ever could (and dares to hope that maybe he can, later).

* * *

A/N: So, yeah, really short, hence the really quick update. Just so people know, my last update for 2010 will be either the 24th/25th and then I'll be in Europe for a week :) I'll post again in the beginning of January.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	85. Happy Golden Days

A/N: I really, really wanted to write a holiday-themed fic. Also, this is a surprise gift for **luvtheheaven** because she made me a kick ass Christmas-themed video for _Gilmore Girls_! It's to the song "Merry Christmas, Kiss My Ass" by All Time Low, so check it out!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,_

_Let your heart be light_

_From now on, our troubles will be out of sight_

_- Hugh Martin_

Happy Golden Days

"What do you want for Christmas?" Rory asks Jess, sitting cross-legged on Luke's couch.

Jess shrugs, not looking up from his book. It's obviously an interesting read if he's engrossed in it and not trying to kiss her breathless, like he does every time they're together. She doesn't know whether to find this annoying or really attractive. Perhaps it's both. "Nothing."

"You can't _not_ want _anything_."

"I'm a strange human being."

"Very strange."

"I should be studied."

"That you should."

She smiles a little. "But I can't just…not get you anything."

"Sure you can. Just don't buy me anything and then on Christmas, you treat it like a normal day, which it is. Unless…you're religious or something…" He raises an eyebrow at her as he trails off.

"No way. But…" she scrapes her bottom lip before continuing with, "Do you plan on…?" She blushes.

He smirks a little.

"Oh, come on. Tell me!"

His smirk grows a little as he turns the page.

"Fine. Be that way. I just won't get you anything."

He lifts his gaze off the book to stare at her, completely unbothered. "Okay."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay."

Well, that certainly takes a load off her back. This is probably for the best – they've only been dating for a little over a month, anyway. They can just have lunch together, walk around Stars Hollow in the snow, and that will be that. It will still be a nice day.

* * *

Her jaw actually drops when he tosses her a neatly wrapped gift on Christmas day. It lands with a substantial thump on the counter.

She follows him with his eyes as he begins filling up the coffee pot. He pauses what he's doing. "What?" he inquires, going back to his work.

"I thought we weren't _doing_ gifts! I didn't think _you_ were serious!"

He shrugs, setting up the percolator. "It's not a big deal."

She wants to say that this _is_ a big deal because he's never bought her anything substantial like this. Sure, it's no bracelet, but it's _something_; he thought about _her_ while purchasing this, whatever it is.

She grins. "Thanks!"

He smiles back briefly.

"Can I…?" she starts, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Yeah. That is the point of gift giving, right?"

She ignores him and carefully unwraps the standard brown paper. There's not a card or ribbon it, but she doesn't mind. She carefully folds the paper and stuffs it in her pocket when she knows Jess isn't looking.

It's two books. The top one reads _Granny Made Me An Anarchist_ by Stuart Christie. Furrowing her brow, she flips to the back and reads the summary and author information.

"It's different. You'll find it interesting," he explains, moving so he's standing opposite her.

"Question."

"Shoot."

"Did you buy this just so you can read it?"

"I already read it."

"You did?"

"Why would I buy you something that I'm not sure you're going to like?"

She grins at him. "Did you test out books for me?"

"Stop it."

"You did, didn't you? You read a bunch of books for me to make sure I'd like them!" She can't describe how incredibly sweet that is, especially since he has no patience when it comes to reading books he can't stand.

He nods down to the second book, reminding her of the second half of his gift. She looks down and immediately flushes a dark red.

_Harmful to Minors: The Perils of Protecting Children From Sex_.

"I do like Judith Levine," she murmurs, opening the book.

"I figured."

She playfully glares at him, remnants of her blush still on her cheeks. "Is it interesting?" she asks even though she knows it _has_ to be.

He nods. "Yeah. And it's not…I'm not trying to _imply_ anything by it," he adds, looking away.

She tries to smile but something gets caught in her throat and she's trying hard to push it down. She nods in understanding. "Thank you."

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand before he pours her a cup of coffee.

"Now I have to get _you_ something."

"No, you don't."

"But I do," she half whines as she brings the mug to her lips.

He pins her with an intense gaze, making her flush again. "I'm okay."

Her breath catches in her throat and she can't help but wonder if he's thinking what she thinks he's thinking. Her head is getting dizzy.

"Happy Christmas," she tells him, reaching for his hand.

He squeezes it in response.

She's still going to buy him two CDs though. She'll have to converse with Lane after Christmas to see which ones he'll appreciate the most that he doesn't have yet. But in the mean time, she'll just enjoy the possibility that what they have right now is enough.

Because she has to be honest, she definitely has that _warm and fuzzy feeling_ more than she ever did in the past. And judging by the occasional smile he throws her way during his shift while she and Lorelai eat lunch, she thinks she might just be right.

* * *

A/N: I thought it would be nice to end 2010 on a happy note :) I will see you guys in 2011 after I get back from my one week vacation!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	86. I've Never Been That Way

A/N: I just discovered this song (which, looking back, doesn't really fit with the content of this oneshot...) and I really should get into the band because I love the sound.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Now I wanna taste your skin_

_So I know just where you've been_

_I'll take that back now_

_Say you love me again_

_Say you're on your way_

_- The Little Heroes_

I've Never Been That Way

Rory dreams about him sometimes. She'll have nights in a row when he'll be front and center during her REM cycle. And yet sometimes she can go weeks without seeing him.

Those are the days when she thinks about him too much.

It's always the nights when during the day, she doesn't put much thought into him. Or he'll be remembered in passing: a random margin note, a certain saying, a book, ice cream in dishes.

The dreams usually include his surprising her in some way (similar to last time) and he'll somehow explain everything and suddenly it's all perfect and wonderful and she's kissing him…

There are some things that aren't said, but she figures them out slowly by her touching him and his touching her. She gets to tell him that she loves him (not _think_ – she _knows_) and it'll make everything better, somehow.

Even though she should know that those words never make everything go away.

(They just cause more problems and heartache and everything else).

She wishes they weren't so disconnected and she didn't have to rely on dreams to see him and talk to him. She's kind of ashamed that it's come to this – it seems so desperate.

And when she sees him in her dorm room, she realizes that she _has_ to be dreaming. There's no way that he willingly came to see her. He's saying things that only her most forlorn trains of thought had led her and she _hates_ that he's bringing them out, making her feel less than what she is (_was_).

After that horrible night, she tries to redo it in her mind and it ends with his taking what she was so afraid to give last year and it feels right. But then she faces the harsh morning and she wishes she could find a way to extract her heart from her chest because it won't stop _hurting_.

She focuses on distractions because she can't deal with his absence this time around.

(She never will get very good at that, will she?).

* * *

A/N: Some people strive to be new people in the face of a new year. Me? I will continue to write angsty Literati fics, always and forever. I'm sorry hahaha it's quite sad, but it's the truth.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	87. Hoping I'm Close To Some New Beginning

A/N: My sister was re-watching an episode of OTH and this song came on…

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Most days I try_

_My best to put on a brave face_

_But inside my bones are cold and my heart breaks_

_But all the while…_

_– Kate Voegele_

Hoping I'm Close To Some New Beginning

He always hated this church.

It's the closest religious establishment to his first apartment. Well, not the first, just the first one he remembered living in. It was for three years, the longest stint until Liz went through a particularly nasty streak for the next seven years.

He thinks it doubled as a school of sorts because he always saw nuns with books around the church. They used to murmur prayers whenever Liz and Jess walked by.

He can't think of any other place to go.

He remembers looking out the window of his apartment and seeing beggars and homeless people knocking on the front doors, wanting to be let in. They were picky, ironically, but sometimes they allowed a person in every once in a while.

He hopes they won't recognize him.

This is beyond desperate and he _hates_ it. He's nineteen, no one should have to take care of him or look after him. He was able to do it when he was twelve, why can't he do it now?

Then again, he never had so much shit going against him. It's different now.

The door opens a crack, just enough to reveal the large chain lock, and Jess can see a single bespectacled eye staring at him. He wishes he could bring himself to look more emotional, but he just can't anymore; he feels rather dead inside.

The door is shut and for a moment, he wonders if his life can possibly get any worse. He supposes it could because hey, he's still _alive_, isn't he?

But then the door is opened fully, revealing a petite, elderly nun in full garb. She steps aside. He exhales and readjusts his bag on his shoulders before walking in.

The first thing he notices is the huge crucifix at the end of the aisle. It's grotesque and it makes him want to vomit.

"Would you like something to eat?" the nun inquires.

Jess is about to refuse since he hasn't been able to keep anything down for a while, but then his stomach makes a noise that she takes as a yes.

It's chicken noodle soup and Jess just stares at it. He wants his stomach to stop making strange noises because he's not going to eat this. There's no way –

He drinks it down in less than a minute, scalding his throat, but he doesn't care.

"I'll get you some more."

"I'm fine," he says, sounding hoarse. He tries to clear his throat by drinking water.

He hasn't talked in two weeks.

"I'll get you some more," she repeats.

He downs that one just as quickly.

"I'm afraid we don't have any available beds, but we can give you a blanket and a pillow for you to sleep on a bench."

He doesn't say anything; it's the best offer he's gotten. She tells him to sit down on a bench and wait for her to come back.

He's staring ahead into nothing when he feels her sit down next to him.

"I remember you," the nun says. "You were that little boy who would help his mess of a mother. I'd see you on the streets."

He clenches his jaw and continues to look ahead. He really fucking hates that Jesus on the cross. Why does he have to look so miserable? He got off easy as far as Jess is concerned.

"You came in here once. Do you remember?"

He furrows his brow, trying to remember. Is she lying? Or maybe just senile?

"You were little. Maybe four? You came in and asked the priest if he could tell God to take care of your mom."

His eyes widen and he embarrassingly feels tears sting them.

It was the fourth time in the same week when Jess had to clean up after his mother. He was confused, scared, and upset. It was the only place he could think of going to ask for help.

After that, Liz brought over _bad boyfriend number one_.

He stopped believing.

"Yeah, well, that didn't help."

"It's more complicated than that."

He bites back a _No shit, Sherlock_ because he thinks cursing at a nun will send him to hell or something.

"You shoulder a lot, don't you?"

He ignores her.

"You know, when Jesus died, He was sinless; He didn't deserve to die – it was His choice. Now He can forgive the sins of anyone who wants his or her sins forgiven. It is our personal choice, left by Him," the nun explains quietly. "You have to forgive yourself, first, which is a lot harder than gaining His forgiveness."

"I don't need _God's_ _forgiveness_. I don't _need_ anything," he snaps.

"You need to forgive yourself," she tells him again. "And you need to realize that maybe not all of it's your fault."

He lets out a bitter laugh. "Of course it is. And I swear, if you even _think_ about reenacting _Good Will Hunting_ I will…" but he can't finish the sentence because he doubts the nun will appreciate vandalism and excessive cursing. Do nuns even watch movies?

To his surprise, she smiles. "You don't look much like Matt Damon. But it's a nice parallel. You're smarter than a lot of people give you credit for." She looks down at his duffel bag of belongings. A corner of a book is sticking out from the top. "_Of Mice and Men_ is a great book."

He holds back a laugh. "Isn't that sinful?"

She shrugs. "Is it? Reading is a wonderful thing to do. Of course, there are some reading materials that aren't very good…"

"I wouldn't recommend Bukowski."

"Too late, I read him when I was fifteen," she informs him, making him smile. "You should smile more. You're such a handsome boy."

The smile drops. "Not much to smile about."

"Nonsense."

He looks up to the ceiling, which is cracked in places. It must be from water damages; it certainly looks that way. What can he smile about when there are cracks in ceilings and the existence of the word _NO_?

Closing his eyes, he pictures her before they started dating. Before they even became friends, when he first walked into her room. Was it wrong to change her like that? He thought it wasn't, that it was a good thing, but he hasn't been sure anymore for the past year.

Whatever. She was always in a better place than he was – maybe that's why it never would've worked out.

But it did, at least for a little while. That was worth smiling about, right?

The corner of his mouth twitches.

* * *

A/N: FFN has been really annoying these past two days - it takes forever to upload documents and it's just acting like a petulant child right now. Am I the only one having these issues?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	88. You Could Change

A/N: This is kind of a weird song that inspired this fic and I tried my best to not make it as creepy as it could be, so…I hope you like it.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Beautiful – like the summer rain to wash away the winter stain;_

_Beautiful – like the morning sun inviting the dawn to break;_

_Beautiful – like the joy that comes when the love you've longed for has just begun;_

_Beautiful – making everything brand new_

___– _Trading Yesterday

You Could Change

_Bingo, found them_.

Thankfully, nothing's happened so far. In fact, Rory is just walking over to Jess, who actually seems to be _smiling_ at her.

Luke didn't think Jess was capable of that.

He can't hear anything, but they're talking. He doesn't know why he's not heading over to them so he can hand Rory her coat and drag Jess back to the diner, but he's rooted to the spot, watching them converse, watching them inch closer, watching them – oh _geez_.

He should _not_ be here right now. Especially since this is clearly a moment that's not meant to be watched by other people. But it _is _rather nice seeing Jess like this and hey, if he's not going to act like a complete jerk around someone, it might as well be Rory.

He smiles fondly at them once more before heading back to the diner – it's not _too_ cold out – she doesn't need her jacket, right? She'll get it later.

And maybe, just _maybe_ he'll cut Jess a _bit_ of slack: they can sit on the same piece of furniture if they so desire…but they still won't be allowed on either end of the apartment – he's not _that_ soft.

* * *

A/N: 200-word count! And the first happy oneshot of 2011 ^_^

Please review!

MissGoalie


	89. How Did the High Become So Low?

A/N: I was re-watching _October Road_ and the season one finale, which was just great, had this song and it inspired me.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_It will forever be nothing like it used to be_

_I feel it slide away_

_I feel it start to fade_

_It's shades of gray to me,_

_Wasn't it supposed to be gold?_

_– Mikal Blue_

How Did the High Become So Low?

He wonders if he's the only one who notices this happening.

Warm air fills the air between them and it's a subconscious trigger for him to hold her tighter and kiss her deeper because this can (will) end in a second. And yet this desperation is making him fade faster – he's losing himself.

He doesn't want to define himself through another person, but it's oh-so tempting when he sees her smile and feels her all the time (even when they're not together, which is such a cliché).

He wishes she were on the same page as he was because with everyday, they're drifting farther apart mentally – he relies on his (relative) peace of mind to properly function and everything that happens between them and each other makes it worse.

She will never understand this basic need of his and he can't blame her for that (and he ends up shouldering everything else because he owes her that much); somehow he understood the very basics of reciprocation without any self-help tapes (_take that, Uncle Luke_).

He's never felt so utterly _alone_ as he walks home from school, failing to get prom tickets, failing high school, failing _everyone he ever gave a real fuck about_. Is his life always going to be this way? Him against every damn person out there? It shouldn't surprise him, but being in Stars Hollow may have softened him a bit (_a whole-fucking-lot_).

These will be the last few moments of peace before everything crashes and burns by his own hands; he predicts every second of it and yet he's still reeling from it all as he sits on the bus to California.

Everything is bright and blue and sunny and this is somewhat familiar; he feels like he experienced this atmosphere once or twice on the east coast. But it's gone, out of reach, and _this_ completely rubs him the wrong way; maybe this was a beyond stupid idea and he's totally mistaken about all this.

Too late – he made his bed, now he has to lie it in it, even if he won't get much sleep.

* * *

A/N: Last weekend before classes begin - hopefully I can keep up the very regular updates, but if they do start taking me a week, you will know why.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	90. You Are Not Me

A/N: This song kind of bothers me, actually…

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_All full of good intent,_

_You swear you know best._

_But you expect me to _

_Jump up on board with you_

_And ride off into your delusional sunset._

_I'm not the one who's lost_

_With no direction_

_– Sara Bareilles_

You Are Not Me

She sees herself when she looks at him standing in her old dorm room. His trembling hands and cracking voice align with her insecurities and fears and _oh my god what is he saying?_

She doesn't like how they're mirroring each other like this. She doesn't like how he's making her doubt even more than she already is because she's not an idiot – she recognizes that look in Dean's eyes when they're together and _I can _handle_ this, I swear._

This may be the only time they've been on equal footing and she still treats him like he's second class (it doesn't hit her until the summer that she never did respect him enough and _this can't be foreshadowing, can it?_).

As she puts her head in her hands and cries, she realizes that they could've helped each other, maybe. They always learned from each other – maybe this could've been more enriching than anything she's experienced yet. But the window of opportunity is closed and locked, like it always is when it comes to Jess.

She sincerely hopes that next time (_next time?_ Next time) they'll be better (less lost, less desperate, less stupidly in love, less hurt).

(Less alike.)

* * *

A/N: 200 word-count!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	91. Good Times For A Change

A/N: This one and the next one will be loosely related.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Haven't had a dream in a long time._

_See, the life I've had_

_Can make a good man bad._

_So for once in my life_

_Let me get what I want._

_Lord knows it would be the first time._

_– The Smiths_

Good Times For A Change

To be honest, Jess Mariano never gave a good enough fuck to fight for anything he wanted. If it couldn't be easily procured with money or stealth, then it wasn't worth wanting in the first place.

At least that's what he convinced himself as he was gripping his sheets, trying to block out his mother's sobbing outside.

Eventually he stops involving himself in his life and it all just goes by through literary worlds and cinematic escapes. Until he gets plopped in a small town with a girl whose eyes should be a crime – they're way too honest. And he realizes, _oh hey, maybe do I want_.

Some days, it's exactly as good as he imagined it to be and everything feels lighter, better.

And for a beautiful but brief moment of time, he forgets the consequences and baggage and pain that come along with not getting what he wants.

It's a nice reprieve, but it makes the end of it that much worse.

* * *

A/N: If anyone can maybe guess what the accompanied song of this one will be, I will not only be impressed, but I will write three oneshots for this person hahah (what it be ridiculously obvious and I'm just a fool).

Please review!

MissGoalie


	92. My Fair Share Of Abuse

A/N: **Betsy86** was the only one to get this right haha – but nice guesses, everyone!

Okay, let me make something clear: the song name of the previous oneshot is "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want." The titles of my oneshots aren't always the title of the song used – in fact, that's pretty rare since I usually take a random lyric from the song and use it as a title.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_You can't always get what you want._

_You can't always get what you want._

_You can't always get what you want,_

_But if you try sometimes, you might find_

_You get what you need._

_– The Rolling Stones_

My Fair Share Of Abuse

Jess Mariano has grown to believe that _maybe_ there's a point to everything. Not a grand master plan or anything like that, but things happen for one reason or another. Maybe that was the only way for him to not lose his mind, wondering why the _hell_ he's been given such shit for most of his life.

And it's not necessarily the worst thing in the world – it's not like he pulled a one-eighty and now believes in Jesus, Mary, and Joseph; he can't quite wrap his mind around the notion of a "God" that can be so fucking passive when it _supposedly _has all that power. Wouldn't you want to do _something_ if you had that kind of power? Maybe that's just his stance on the whole thing.

It's the last song on the album and he can't think of a better closer; Jagger and Richards really knew their shit. And this is the only instance where Jess would tell John Lennon to go fuck himself (except, you know, for getting involved with Yoko Ono in the first place – she did nothing for him). "You Can't Always Get What You Want" is superior to "Hey Jude," even though the latter is still a great song.

And Lennon didn't even _write_ "Hey Jude" – why did he act like he was the fucking creative means behind it? That always annoyed Jess – _it was about his son, not him_.

That statement would probably get him shot since "Hey Jude" is always, _always_ higher rated than "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by critics and everyone else, but the former never quite moved him as much as the latter. Maybe it's because the Stones' song is simpler, easier to get, more direct.

Maybe the Stones took a great idea from the Beatles and perfected it, _and made it better_. Hey, it's possible – the Beatles weren't faultless (if they were they would've let Harrison be more involved in the creative process – he was _seriously_ underappreciated).

You can't always get what you want.

It's a nice answer to everything.

Especially when he's hitchhiking for over an hour in bitter cold, being constantly reminded of nicer days when he used to have someone to talk to (never took advantage of that, did he?). Although sometimes when he's trying hard to stay awake in the middle of the night because he's been kicked off of three park benches, he wonders when the hell he's going to _get what he needs_.

But that particular night did inspire the first sentence of _The Subsect_.

You just might find, you get what you need.

He can live with that.

* * *

A/N: As I said…loosely related. Barely. *cringe*

Please review!

MissGoalie


	93. The Wonders And Now

A/N: This song is really beautiful – she's very talented. Dedicated to/inspired by **watram** because we were talking about Rory's trip to the city to visit Jess :) Hopefully you'll like this! (btw, check out her fic as well! It's so good.)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I like it in the city when two words collide._

_– Adele_

The Wonders and Now

Rory feels like she's walking into the underbelly of the beautiful, glorious Manhattan, but it's not as bad of a concept as Paris tried to make it out to be so many weeks ago. She knew it existed, experienced it with her mother in passing once or twice, but it's completely different when absorbed, standing next to a boy that's not her boyfriend and is skipping school without anyone's knowledge; caught in the middle.

Jess lets her scan his MetroCard for herself, which she stupidly finds to be incredibly sweet. And she ignores his low chuckle when she practically skips through the gate in excitement.

They wait for the subway in silence. She tenses when she sees a homeless man come down the stairs, mumbling, but Jess just inches a smidge closer so she can feel the warmth of his body; it's surprisingly comforting.

He leads her into the subway and finds a pole to stand by, all the seats taken by the elderly with groceries and businessmen furiously typing on their computers. He grips it tightly and she watches the way the tendons move in his forearms with fascination. She tries to find a free bit of space on the pole, but there isn't any – she ends up wrapping a finger around it, hoping for the best.

When the subway jerks forward, she feels a strong arm wrap around her waist keeping her steady. She glances up at Jess, but he keep his gaze forward, which she's glad about because she doesn't want him to notice how flushed her face is.

On the second stop he directs her out of the subway, his hand now just resting on her lower back. Dean does this sometimes, but it's like his hand is permanently attached, a constant pressure of heat that's uncomfortable and eventually annoying. Jess' hand comes and goes, a friendly reminder that he's there.

She kind of wishes that his touch would be more constant, but she tries to forget about that thought as they walk up the stairs.

She wonders how they look from the outside. Do people think they're a couple? Do they think they're family or just friends playing hooky from school? This is the first time when she's in an environment where people don't know exactly who she is – she can be anyone here.

Right now, her only connection to her world is Jess, who walks so casually in every world he frequents, which is alluring to her. She can only hope that maybe one day she can do that with such grace.

The sun reflects off his eyes for a second and she's stunned. By the time she realizes what's happened, he's already on the sidewalk, smirking at her.

"You coming?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Just taking it in."

She runs up the rest of the stairs and takes a breath.

* * *

A/N: I hope it was decent!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	94. The Little Bit Of Sadness In Me

A/N: Given that this artist really inspired me to get my ass into gear to complete "The Machine In The Ghost Within" – which if you haven't read, I think you should :) – I decided to do three oneshots that are somewhat connected in theme, but mostly linked by the featuring of the same artist. Sorry if you guys really despise this guy, but my sister is a huge rap fan and we influence each other with our music preferences, so I do enjoy a good rap song.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_The moon will illuminate my room_

_And soon I'm consumed by my doom._

_Once upon a time nobody gave a fuck,_

_It's all said and done…_

_– Kid Cudi_

The Little Bit Of Sadness In Me

It's always on the wind, the smell of pot, and he fucking hates it. It's too familiar and his stomach turns constantly. He thinks he only got high once and it was an accident – second hand smoke exists, he can certainly attest to that.

He holds his breath on instinct when he passes by a lifeguard chair, assuming at least five people are under it, blazing away.

He glances up at the sky, the moon bright, illuminating the end of the boardwalk. He likes how there aren't any lamps back here. Exhaling, he stares out at the ocean again, wondering if he's allowed to think about her enjoying this scene if she were here. Or if he's allowed to appreciate that early morning when he admitted that Dean was right (the moon was just as bright then). Does he deserve those kinds of memories? Or does he just deserve the pain he gets from having them?

Touching the newly purchased book in his back pocket, he thinks he should be heading back.

Exhaling sharply, he turns around and as soon as he walks back into the lit part of the boardwalk, he pulls out the book and reads, distracting his mind for a little while.

* * *

When he arrives, Lily is sleeping on the front porch, Frodo resting under her head.

He wishes she wouldn't _do_ stuff like that.

With a gentle shake, he wakes her up.

"How does Sasha let you do this?" Jess mutters in disbelief as Lily moans and peels herself off the dog.

"She doesn't. I do it anyway," she mumbles, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

He shakes his head in disbelief. He doesn't know why she waits for him to come back.

(He actually does, but it makes him feel too guilty to really think about the implications).

"You should go to sleep," she tells him, making the corner of his mouth quirk up. He should, but he doesn't.

She stares at him with a rather dull expression on her face, making him uncomfortable. Maybe he should carry her to bed?

"You look so sad," she finally says, her voice faint compared to the harsh crickets, but it makes his insides tremble like a loud bass in a house party, which brings back bad memories, linked to the present by that one word: _sad_.

It's such a stupid word. It's painfully elementary; there are plenty of other words that properly convey that emotion that are more intellectually stimulating: distressing, miserable, gloomy, melancholy…

But he supposes that there's something inherently simple and true about _sad._

He exhales. "I've been told that before."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

She slowly gets to her feet, hunching over as if standing up properly takes too much effort. "Are you going to show me that bookstore you found tomorrow?" she inquires as he shuts and locks the door behind them. "Why do you lock it? We never did before you came," she points out.

He holds his tongue in check because he doesn't want to be the one to tell her about how necessary it is _out there_.

Preserving innocence isn't something he thought he would be doing (why should he do something that no one else had the decency to do for him?).

"Yeah, I'll take you," he answers instead.

She turns her head to grin sleepily at him. "Okay. 'Night, Jess."

He goes to say goodnight, but he's really bad at that sort of stuff, so he just nods at her back, which makes him feel stupid.

He goes to his makeshift room in the den and lies on the mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as that familiar, heavy pressure rests on his chest, making him incapable of sleep. Placing his hand over it, he realizes it's right over his heart.

Maybe he is just a little bit sad.

He grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, forcing himself to let go.

* * *

A/N: Hope it was enjoyable :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	95. Her New Nightmare

A/N: The second of the three Kid Cudi-inspired oneshots. I really wanted to keep it all from his first album, but this song screamed at me to make it into a oneshot, so there you go.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_She said, "I keep on running, keep on running_

_And nothing works; I can't get away from you, no._

_I keep on ducking, keep on ducking_

_And nothing helps,_

_I can't stop missing you, yeah."_

_– Kid Cudi_

Her New Nightmare

How the hell can someone who hated everything about this town somehow be linked to every aspect of it?

Rory knew her brain was quirky, but she didn't realize how insane she could really be.

She can go days without thinking about him or being reminded of him, totally normal and fine and even happy at points. It's like he never existed. But then she's walking past one of the stores that sell ceramic unicorns and she can _hear_ him chuckling, making a snide comment about the new shipment.

And then she's back to thinking constantly about him.

He's never out of sight, out of mind for long.

But the worst part about it is that thinking about him, _months _after that dumb phone call, still _hurts_. She knows he doesn't deserve it, but she can't help it, no matter what she does.

She wants to move on to another guy, but it's somehow so complicated and difficult to find one; it was so much easier when boys found _her_ and pursued _her_.

And sometimes she wonders if people can _tell_. She's not sure what they can tell: her rough past, the ripped up portion of her heart that he took from her, or something else all together that keeps people away, but the fact of the matter is that _he's_ the reason for all of this and she wishes _none of it happened_.

If only an "undo" option existed in life.

Maybe if she just _pretends_ he never played a part in her life, it will work just the same.

It's just too bad that she can't relay the memo to him; it's almost as if he's _trying_ not to be forgotten.

And then as soon as that final _no_ escapes her lips, she realizes within a pulse that he's been suffering the same way she has – he's been trying to get over her and push her memories out of the way, but they keep seeping back and screwing with everything. This moment was his attempt at trying to end this misery; to just embrace their connection, and she just –

She puts her head in her hands and cries, understanding now that it's impossible to escape him; he's part of her in a way that happens when someone enters her world and leaves his or her mark in her mind and heart.

Her breathing becomes more even, finally accepting that Jess Mariano is a ghost of her past and that she _has_ to find a way to stop being _haunted_ by him.

She thinks about Dean and has an uncomfortable inkling of what's to come.

* * *

A/N: Hopefully that got across okay - I had the idea in mind, just not sure if it translated to words.

On a happier note: justice was served on SuperBowl Sunday, that's all I will say. And _Glee_ is finally back, THANK CHEESUS.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	96. I Guess I'm Cool

A/N: The last of the three!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Happy to see how far I've come to the same place it began:_

_My dreams and imagination._

_Perfectly at peace so I move along a bit higher…_

_– Kid Cudi_

I Guess I'm Cool

Jess arrives in New York City through public transportation – there's no fucking way he's spending fifty bucks on parking his car.

It's the first time being here in a while and it's a little too weird. It's not like other times when he'd live in Stars Hollow and come back, or after his months of traveling from city to city – he's in a completely different mindset now.

He strolls through the streets, finally feeling like he's going with the flow of energy and everything else; it's not like last time when the feeling would come and go.

It's consistent.

He goes to a few bookstores and they know a real New Yorker when they see one and buy copies, even though they're confused as hell as to why he's not living here and living in _Philly_ – _honestly, can they compare?_

He really doubts he'll live in Philly forever – he doesn't want to be grounded _quite_ yet and a twisted part of his heart still feels like this city is home. But he's at ease about everything at this point in time, so there's no need for change yet.

He passes by the New York Times building and grins for a moment. If he can do it, then she sure as hell will, and that's a good thought.

* * *

A/N: Get excited for the next one because it's in the spirit of Valentine's Day!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	97. Me And You

A/N: In time for Valentine's Day! Joint dedicated to **Betsy86** for successfully guessing the song in chapter 92 and to **luvtheheaven** because she mentioned that she would be interested in a music discussion =)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_L is for the way you look at me,_

_O is for the only one I see,_

_V is very, very extraordinary,_

_E is even more than anyone that you adore…_

_– Nat King Cole_

Me And You

Dave and Lane walk into the diner with glum expressions on their faces.

"I take it your ten minute drive-date didn't go well?" Rory offers in sympathy as soon as they plop into the seats across from her and Jess.

"The music on the radio was killing my soul. All those _lame_ love songs," Lane moans, her head dropping onto the table. Dave pats Lane's back in sympathy.

"It was killer. 'Truly, Madly, Deeply'? I'd rather give myself a lobotomy, ice pick through the eye and all, than listen to that," Dave continues in a miserable tone.

Jess chuckles. "It is bad," he agrees. "And they always play Paul McCartney's post-Beatles stuff. _Why_? The Beatles wrote plenty of great love songs."

"So true. 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'? Fantastic. So simplistic," Dave replies, reaching over to Lane to lace his hand with hers, making her lift her head off the table and grin at him.

"And 'Something,'" Rory continues. "You can't get more romantic than that."

Jess sneaks a glance at Rory and briefly smiles.

"And, of course, they should play The Velvet Underground," Lane points out. "Hello? 'I'll Be Your Mirror,' anyone?"

"'Pale Blue Eyes,'" Jess adds, smirking at Rory, who blushes, clearly remembering their last make out session to that song.

Luke then comes over, putting down a plate of fries.

"You god, you!" Lane exclaims, being the first to dig in.

Luke ignores Lane's outburst and points to Jess. "You have ten minutes and then it's back to work."

Jess rolls his eyes. "Fine."

Luke stomps away.

"What about 'Brown Eyed Girl'?" Dave suggests. "Not the most romantic, per se, _but_ it's the only song that references brown eyes, which should always be appreciated."

Lane gives him such a dazzling smile that Rory can't help but melt a little over; Dave is so perfect for Lane.

"And let's not forget the classic Marvin Gaye," Dave continues with a joking overtone.

"'Let's Get It On'?" Jess guesses.

"Don't even _think_ about mentioning 'Sexual Healing' – only one Marvin Gaye song can be used!" Lane interjects. "Crap, I brought it up," she curses under her breath.

"Wait, since when did this discussion require rules and regulations?" Rory asks.

"As soon as the discussion of love songs turned into sexual ones. And speaking of, 'Whole Lotta Love' is definitely a perfect love song," Jess answers with a deadpan expression, shaking salt and pepper onto the plate.

"_I wanna be your backdoor man – _are you _serious_?" Rory says, her cheeks growing hot as she mildly glares at him.

He grins at her. She elbows him in retaliation.

"Fine. If we're playing that game – 'Light My Fire,'" she adds primly.

Jess gives her a stare that makes her flush in a different way.

"And let's not forget the unrequited love songs," Dave says to break the tense silence. "Like 'I've Been Loving You Too Long.'"

"Wow, Dave, going for the hard stuff," Lane jokes. "If that plane didn't kill Redding, I believe he would've done it himself."

"Derek and the Dominos," Jess answers without looking away from Rory.

"'Layla' is the greatest unrequited love song ever written," Lane responds, nodding resolutely. "Stupid Pattie Boyd – inspired the greatest love songs ever. Jealous," she mutters under her breath. Rory smiles at Lane in sympathy – _it would be pretty great to have someone write a song for you._

Now Jess stares at Lane. "How can you so easily write off 'Bell Bottom Blues'?"

"Because 'Layla' is perfection."

Jess is about ready to debate further, but Rory takes Jess' towel from his back pocket and waves it. "Okay, guys, enough. Since Jess has to get back to work and Lane as to go home soon, let's do a final wrap up. Your favorite love song – go."

"I'm going to have to go with 'Something,'" Dave answers, nodding toward Rory. "Or anything Elvis Presley – 'Can't Help Falling In Love' is a personal favorite."

"'Lovesong,' probably. The Cure is amazing," Lane quips. "Oh, and 'Brown Eyed Girl,'" she adds, shooting Dave a smile.

They stare at Rory. "I love the old Beatles songs – those are classic. Actually, songs from the British Invasion are all good – The Beatles, The Kinks…" she trails off, staring at Jess, infinitely curious about his answer.

He smirks a little. "Since most of my favorites were mentioned, I'll say 'Your Song.'"

They gawk at him. "Elton John? _Really_?" Lane asks, completely flabbergasted.

"Hey, he did do 'Tiny Dancer.'"

"And we all know your intense obsession with that song," Rory mutters, rolling her eyes. They rented _Almost Famous_ a week ago and she watched the way his eyes lit up throughout – she expects many more future viewings.

"But…_why_?" Lane presses Jess.

"It did revolutionize the love ballad, but I'm rather curious also," Dave offers.

Jess shrugs. "'I hope you don't mind that I put down in words/How wonderful life is while you're in the world,'" he answers without giving any more of an explanation.

Dave and Lane furrow their brows at him, but don't question it further.

Rory gets it.

* * *

A/N: Everyone have a good V-Day! I can't wait to gorge on chocolate ^_^

Please review!

MissGoalie


	98. A Coda With A Curse

A/N: I knew I wanted to write something about Jess for this song, but the inspiration took quite a bit more time to kick in.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I want something else_

_To get me through this_

_Life. Baby,_

_I want something else_

_I'm not listening when you say_

_Goodbye._

_– Third Eye Blind_

A Coda With A Curse

The entire journey cross-country, Jess thinks about what he has to tell Rory once he gets off this bus. He thought he could just leave, but then her class just happens to get fucking _cancelled_ (seriously, he's beginning to question _fate_ and all that shit) and he realizes that he can't do that to her. Of all the people he's ever known, she least deserves that.

Everything is unbearably cheesy or not quite right. It's so infuriating and this _goddamn sun_ is going to burn his eye sockets and melt his leather jacket.

He goes to a dozen pay phones, hoping the next one will give him the right inspiration or whatever. It's all kinds of fucked up – at the drop of hat he can recite the perfect literary reference for any situation and he can instantly list hundreds of songs that remind him of her, but when it comes to properly wording everything he feels, his brain goes blank, which never happens. Ever.

He hangs up angrily for the sixth time, tempted to hit the phone against the box a hundred times until it snaps, but he knows he's not that strong, so he walks away, which he's been very good at doing lately.

It's not until her graduation when he really understands why he's in California, thousands of miles away from her. It's strange, but it's a necessity; there's no way he can properly justify it.

And when she finally figures out who's on the other end, he realizes that he'll never get a chance to explain it all anyway.

Maybe it's for the best. At least for now – there's always later, despite her insistence on completely cutting ties.

She should know by this point that's pretty fucking impossible for them.

He hangs up the phone into the receiver, resigned. Definitely not the coda she believes it to be, but more of an intermission.

* * *

A/N: Poor Jess – he just never catches a break, does he?

Please review!

MissGoalie


	99. That Girl Is Like…

A/N: Funnily enough, the day after I posted the previous oneshot, I heard this song in the gym and I was first like, "_CLOCKSTOPPERS_ – GREATEST MOVIE EVER" and then more rationally I thought, "Awesome song."

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I remember the stupid things, the mood rings, the bracelets and the beads,_

_Nickels and dimes, yours and mine, did you cash in all your dreams?_

_You don't dream for me, no._

_You don't dream for me, no._

_But I still feel you pulse like sonar…_

_- Third Eye Blind_

That Girl Is Like…

When he sees her for the first time in over a year, all these random things come back to him: the weight of her head on his shoulder as they read books side-by-side; how she'd accidentally snort while laughing when she read _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ with his margin comments; the way she'd suck on her bottom lip for a second after he pulls away from a kiss, as if trying to preserve it…

The way he used to feel whenever she smiled at him like this.

How there are so many sight and aural cues that trigger memories of her and yet there are so very few physical remains of their time together is weird. Sure, he's never been one to have memorabilia, but he wouldn't mind having one that reminds him of her.

And when he hands over his book, he realizes this is _it_, the culmination of everything about them. It may not be blatant, but it's subtle, like the way her heart used to echo in his chest when he held her tight.

Everything he's ever felt about her, with her is still there. It's not as strong as it used to be, but it lingers. He doubts it'll ever completely go away, but he doesn't think he'd ever want it to.

* * *

A/N: ONE MORE UNTIL TRIPLE-DIGITS! Everyone has homework: tell me at least one oneshot that you liked! I'm curious to see which ones stood out for you ^_^

Please review!

MissGoalie


	100. And All I Ever Learned From Love

A/N: I personally prefer the Rufus Wainwright version of this song. How many versions of this song exist, anyway? Probably a ridiculous amount.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I used to live alone before I knew you._

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch,_

_Love is not a victory march,_

_It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah…_

_- Leonard Cohen_

And All I Ever Learned From Love

**i. it goes like this/the fourth, the fifth/the minor fall, the major lift.**

It's dynamic and just a little bit out of their control, but they're seventeen going on eighteen and it's the best feeling _ever_.

Although he could do without the misunderstandings – it's bad enough that everyone else doesn't give a fuck to understand.

Up, down, veering left and right, elation and something akin to depression. His head spins and he retches under the southern Californian boardwalk in the early hours of the morning.

Everything he's experiencing, seeing, feeling, touching is too intense right now.

(Maybe that's how it's supposed to be).

**ii. her beauty/in the moonlight/overthrew you.**

Out of every memory he has of her, that quiet, cold night with her red coat glowing purple in the moonlight with her skin forcing him to consider heavenly influences is the one that haunts his sleep.

While he admires her idealistic naïveté, it's her dawning realization beating the oncoming, harsh morning, is what he appreciates the most.

Her accepting, embracing him, who's still shadowed and can only be seen through her brightness.

**iii. she tied you/to a kitchen chair/she broke your throne/she cut your hair.**

In the end, at the beginning of summer when everything should feel better but he should know by now he can't get what he wants in hot weather, he feels violated.

Part of himself was ripped away and she's shredding it with her righteous and justified anger thousands of miles away.

Dozens of cities he walks through, all blending together, and he runs away form them all because they _know_, they have to see what a warped version of himself he is, that the person running through cities, away and toward something, is not real anymore.

He does double takes when he passes by mirrors because his reflection is never the same.

**iv. remember when i moved in you?/the holy dark was moving too.**

He remembers reading or hearing at one point that the anticipation is so much better than the actual moment itself, but he thinks whoever said that was an idiot, or never really experienced anything worth living for.

Technique-wise, she's not the best. But he'd take whatever he feels for Rory a million times over that random girl three years ago who could knot a cherry stem with her tongue.

Feeling sparks or chemistry seemed like such a cliché and over exaggerated until her mouth touched his. It _exists_ and he actually _feels something_.

He doesn't know how this became his life and it's unsettling, but most of the time it's a good thing.

(Other times terrifying because literature and film tropes like fate and destiny don't work in real life because it can't explain everything, no matter how much he may want it to).

**v. it's not a cry you can hear at night/it's not somebody who's seen the light.**

It's like he's malfunctioning now, feeling too much and not feeling enough at the wrong moments. He chugs down coffee with stinging eyes, convincing himself it's because it's burning the roof of his mouth and there's nothing going through his mind when he spots _The Fountainhead_ in a bookstore.

Kerouac and them had it so much damn easier with the whole hitchhiking thing. How they all make it seem so _romantic_ and _awesome_ pisses Jess off as he's walking in bike lanes with his thumb out.

Nobody knows how he really feels about her; he could die right this second and _nobody_ would be able to say anything about him. When he tells her that he loves her, it's so she knows, can maybe understand, but it's also for himself because at least someone has the means of figuring out part of him.

He is a man of mystery, after all; he can't be an open book.

As weeks go on, he finds himself to be the same as he was before, except maybe a bit softer around the edges. Love is not as euphoric as movies make it out to be and isn't as destructive as songs claim, but it's worth everything book, lyric, and film ever made about it.

* * *

A/N: *FIREWORK CANNONS!* 100 oneshots! Amazing. Go me XD

A huge, HUGE thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed, favored, alerted, etc. this collection – you guys are incredibly awesome. And a special thank you to those select few who have reviewed every single update – I would list you all, but I'm afraid I'd leave one out! But you know who you are ;)

Here's to hoping for 100 more!

MissGoalie


	101. The Potential Of You And Me

A/N: One of my favorite _Gilmore Girls_ episodes. And because the scene was got wasn't nearly long enough for my tastes.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_There are days when outside your window_

_I see my reflection as I slowly pass_

_And I long for this mirrored perspective_

_When we'll be lovers, lovers at last_

_– Death Cab For Cutie_

The Potential Of You And Me

Jess is walking up to Rory's house and for a moment he briefly wonders what the fuck he's doing. Or, more importantly, what he _expects_ to happen.

He knows Lorelai is away for the weekend, so that means Rory's home alone. This would be the perfect opportunity to have a certain _boyfriend_ over, which makes him grimace at the thought. But this would be the _most_ opportune time to come and ruin whatever mood they're in.

As he approaches her front door, he catches his reflection in a window, holding this large box filled to the brim with food. If he didn't know any better, he would say he was –

No. He just likes messing with her. And he _loves_ screwing around with _him_; he's just too easy. This is like killing two birds with one stone.

He rings the doorbell and he hears some murmuring inside before he can hear Rory's voice clearly: "No. You got your hour, you need to go."

Jess furrows his eyebrows. _What_? Actually, he immediately thinks: _dirty_. She wouldn't say that to Dean, so that must mean…

He smirks a bit in amusement.

She opens the door and color immediately drains from her face.

"Delivery," he chimes, the remnants of his amused smirk on his face. This should be fun.

* * *

"I can't find my flashcards!" a female voice yells.

_It's that girl_, Jess thinks, the one who came into the diner accusing Luke of running a cathouse. He found her rather amusing at the time, but right now, he hates her guts. Does he know her name?

"I didn't know you had company," he says, annoyed with this girl who ruined his plans.

"This is Paris. We were just studying," Rory explains, sounding worn out.

"Huh." _Right_. He remembers Rory dragging her out of the diner.

"Don't worry. I was just leaving. If you find my flashcards, call me, okay?" Paris says, sounding a bit calmer.

_Yes, leave_, Jess mentally yells at her.

"No," Rory says, her face unreadable.

"What?" Paris inquires.

"Stay. For dinner." Rory looks at him, and he can tell that this is equivalent to solving a problem for her.

"But I thought –"

"We have a ton of food…and we can go over the notes more later," Rory continues, a strangely triumphant smile on her face.

Paris looks suspicious. Jess can't help but think that this girl would fit well in New York. "You're sure?"

"Positive."

What Jess and Paris seem to have in common is that they ultimately cave into Rory's demands. "Is that mac and cheese?" Paris points to the table.

"Sure is."

"I love mac and cheese."

"Great."

"I'm not allowed to have mac and cheese."

His eyebrows rise in surprise and disbelief. She's just as a crazy as a Stars Hollow resident.

"Splurge. Come on, Paris, stay," Rory says with a tight smile; Jess knows she's silently yelling in her head, _Stay, stay, PLEASE STAY._

"Do you have a twenty-four-hour pharmacy in case I have an allergic reaction to something?"

"Believe it or not, we do."

"Okay. Can I borrow your phone?"

"It's by the door," Rory says, sounding happy as she gestures to her front door.

As Paris goes to Rory's phone, Jess nods, looking down. "Interesting," he says before clenching his jaw.

"What is?" Rory asks in relief.

"You think we need a chaperone?" Jess inquires lowly, calmly.

"No, I don't."

That's the biggest lie Jess has heard in a while, but at the same time, it definitely _means_ something. "You just invited one," he answers, gesturing to Paris with his eyes.

"Just being polite. Paris is alone tonight and you yourself said that we have enough food for six."

"With me around, it's down to four."

"With Paris around, it's down to two."

"Works out well."

"I think so."

They both stare at each other as Paris starts speaking to her nanny in a language Jess doesn't quite recognize, although it does sound similar to Spanish.

"…_mucho mac and cheese_!" Paris says excitedly.

The corner of Rory's mouth begins to twitch in amusement and Jess looks at Paris strangely. Well, this will certainly be _interesting_.

* * *

"You're that kid from the diner," Paris states, but manages to sound like she's accusing him of a crime.

"And you're the girl who accused my uncle of running a brothel."

"It was a suspicious-looking diner."

"Have you ever been to a _real_ diner before?"

"Alright! Who wants soda?" Rory says, hoping to stop an argument.

Jess stands up from the table. "I'll get it."

"You don't know where everything –"

"Soda's in the fridge. Plates and cups are in the cupboards, right?" he says, walking past her to the fridge.

"How did you know?"

Paris scoffs at the table as she begins to open some containers.

"Well, soda is _usually_ in the refrigerator," he first states, enjoying the way Rory turns pink in embarrassment. "And I recall your mother complaining for _twenty minutes _about how she reached up to grab a plate with _Elmo_ on it, but ended up knocking over all her other plates and cups onto the ground and she had to spend about _two_ minutes picking everything up and putting it back," he explains as he opens all the sodas. When one starts to ooze out, he immediately puts it to his mouth, preventing any of it from dripping. She tries to ignore the fact that the move was extremely attractive.

"Wow, impressive."

"What?" he asks after swallowing.

"The fact that you remembered that pointless story and that you managed not to spill any soda. Nice reflexes."

"Thanks." He pours the one he just drank from into one cup and did the same with the other two.

"Why _were_ you upstairs," Paris asks as he places a cup of soda in front of her.

"I live there."

"What?"

"Luke's his uncle," Rory supplies, "There's an apartment above the diner."

"Oh. Interesting."

There's a bit of an awkward silence as they start eating. He knows Paris has a bit more common sense than Rory does, but she's very…_abrasive_. He wonders how the two of them could've possibly become friends.

"What're you reading right now?" Rory inquires after a few minutes, looking at Jess with a strange spark in her eye. What is she doing?

"_Franny and Zooey._"

"But you've read that already."

"I thought about it the other day and decided to read it again."

"_Ugh_. Salinger," Paris shakes her head in abhorrence.

Rory and Jess round on Paris. "_What_?"

"How can you _hate_ Salinger?" Rory demands, incredulous.

"I can definitely see why _you_ would love Salinger," Paris continues, glancing at Jess. "Holden must be your idol."

"How original. Like I haven't heard that before." His voice is heavy with sarcasm, but he looks at Rory, who grins at him.

"He's _obsessed_ with this _made up_ family. It's ridiculous. He thinks the Glass family is _God's Gift to Man_," Paris states, revolted.

"I agree," Jess says, surprised.

Paris stops her chewing. "Really?" she sounds shocked as well.

"Ever read 'Seymour: An Introduction?'"

"No," Paris mutters.

"Barely got through the first ten pages," Jess admits.

"You just want to tell him to _shut the hell up_ and go back to writing about disillusioned youth and mixing it with that Zen, mysticism junk. At least he wrote semi-decent fiction about that, even though it got old fast."

"Not _all_ of it was about Zen and disillusioned youth. What about 'For Esmé – with Love and Squalor?'" Rory argues. "And 'De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period?'"

"Best thing he's ever written, 'For Esmé'" Paris says, nodding. "He should just write short stories. He had his moment of glory with _Catcher _and _Franny and Zooey _just wasn't up to par."

"His short stories are some of the best," Jess nods. "And, _Rory_. I'm surprised. 'Just Before the War with the Eskimos' _and_ 'De Daumier' _are_ about the mystically inherent nature of beauty and value…they mirror _Franny and Zooey_."

"That may be true, but they're _nothing_ like 'Teddy.' _That_ story is more closely linked to _Franny and Zooey_ than the other two are. In fact, if I were teaching an English class, I would make them read 'Teddy' as a precursor to _Franny and Zooey_."

"I wouldn't even go _beyond_ _Catcher in the Rye _if I were teaching an English class. I would only teach fiction that's worthwhile. They could read Salinger's other stuff in their free time."

"And what fiction do you consider _worthwhile_?" Rory asks, feeling as if this debate is going to get a bit more heated.

"Dickens."

Jess snorts.

"What?" Paris commands, her brown eyes narrowing.

"No, it's fine. I like Dickens, too. I'm just surprised _you_ do."

"Oh, just because I'm upper-middle class and haven't been to a diner besides the one in this fairytale town? It's a simple matter of fact: Dickens is one of the best novelists of the Victorian era and his writing is impeccable. And for you information, I _like_ his satires of aristocratic snobbery. The privileged can have a sense of humor, too, you know."

Jess smirks amusedly. "Fair enough. Favorite book?"

"_Great Expectations_. I vomited when I read _David Copperfield_. So…_fairytale._ I suppose _you_ like that book, Gilmore?"

Rory flushes. "I do like it…" she mutters.

Jess grins. "You like _Oliver Twist_, certainly," he says, glancing at her.

"I believe you do too, _Dodger_."

Paris' brow furrows in confusion, not understanding what's going on.

"_A Tale of Two Cities_."

Rory and Paris stare at him. "Really?" Paris inquires, impressed.

"'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only,'" Jess recites in a casual tone as he picks off the lettuce and tomato from his burger.

Paris gapes at him and Rory gazes upon him with pride.

"That…was unexpected and highly impressive," Paris states, gazing upon Jess with newfound respect. "Do you know any other passages?"

"_Tons_," Rory blurts, glaring at Jess. "He memorizes everything he reads. I wouldn't be surprised if he could continue after that passage."

He smirks. "'There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face on the throne of England…'" he starts before Rory slaps him, making him laugh.

"I hate you! Can you imagine having this ability?"

"School would be a synch," Paris laments before taking a ravenous bite of mac and cheese. "So good. Your uncle's good," Paris adds.

"Yeah, be sure to thank Luke, would you?" Rory says.

"Uh huh." He takes a bite out of his burger to keep himself to from smirking. "So, you're another straight-A kid?"

"Well, unlike _some_ people, I _care_ about my education and my future. Let me guess? You couldn't give a crap."

"'…Colleges being nothing but grooming schools for the middle-class non-identity which usually finds its perfect expression on the outskirts of the campus in rows of well-to-do houses with lawns and television sets in each living room with everybody looking at the same thing and thinking the same thing at the same time…'" Jess answers.

Paris' face fills with disgust. "Oh, _god_, you're a _Kerouac_-lover. Should've guessed. Okay, you want to know what I _wouldn't_ teach if I ran an English class? I can tell you this: I wouldn't even _touch_ the Beats," Paris spits out the last word like it's a curse.

Rory's jaw drops, even though they can't see her as she's opening a box of Nillas. _Jess isn't going to like that_, she thinks to herself.

She can hear Jess choke on his soda. "_What_? Some of the best writing _comes_ from them."

"A tragic waste of paper."

"I can't _believe_ you just _said _that!"

She smiles to herself. She doesn't know why, but she's really pleased at the fact that Paris and Jess can get along in their own, strange way. She's impressed; it takes someone of very strong character to butt heads with Paris Geller.

* * *

A/N: Midterms are finally done so I'm back to writing! Hopefully this was a good way to start off the next 100 or so.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	102. We Are Always Living

A/N: Heard this song on the _Greek_ finale (so sad – I watched that show since the very beginning!) and it inspired me :)

Standard disclaimers apply

* * *

_You look darkly on the day_

_With memories to light your way_

_A little sad but it's all right._

_– The Weepies_

We Are Always Living

**so it goes, though no one knows you like they used to do**

**have a drink, the sky is sinking toward a deeper blue**

**and you're still all right.**

It's the second time in her life that's she's staring at the Parisian sky, but this time she's completely alone. She managed to convince her grandma that _yes, I'll be fine, I know how to speak some French_ and _I'll meet you at the Plaza Ath__é__n__é__e for dinner._

She needs to think. Or just be by herself.

She's sitting on a bench, cradling a beer in her hands because some part of her still hasn't let go of that stupid _d__ésir_ to rebel or do something unexpected.

She wants to blame _him_ for it, but that's just childish and unfair; it's her fault and the only thing he ever tried to do was throw away her inhibitions because they were holding her back from everything that can be felt in life.

So far she thought that it was a mistake because she didn't _want_ to feel all this. There wasn't any good in it.

But now she's watching the sun set, colors changing and transforming to pure darkness and she can't help but wonder if she were to have come here when she was sixteen, before she met him, would she be feeling this sense of wonder and sadness and everything else?

Her eyes fill with tears and the city lights below her are blurring into a singular mass. She wishes that her loneliness wouldn't consume her because she thinks she might just be a little bit depressed, that she has been for the past year.

Is it too late to admit that she missed (misses) him? That she has regrets and unsaid words and love? Is it okay despite everything in her life saying otherwise?

She flushes at the myriad of reasons why she ran away. Dean, stupid, loving, _so stupid_ Dean and _stupid, stupid, SO STUPID_ Rory for giving him something that she never should've given him or anyone else at that time.

She wasn't ready. She was before, a year ago, but then she wasn't. And it doesn't matter anymore because although she's not sore anymore, she can still feeling everything.

She finishes her beer and she really hates it, but she tries to appreciate it anyway.

**so i stumble home at night**

**like i've stumbled through my life,**

**with ghosts and visions in my sight.**

It's the infinite time in his life that's he's staring at the New York City sky, but this time he's completely surrounded. His cell phone in his pocket is his only link to Luke and his mind is trying to create thousands upon millions of connections to Rory, his heart long given up.

It all aches and he's heaved too many times within the past two weeks. Some part of him always shakes and he's not sure how the fuck he's even alive at this point – the only thing he's eaten is a pack of oyster crackers and a clementine, which he can't even remember where he got them.

He's a mess, clearly, obviously, painfully, _fuck everything_.

Despite it being past midnight, there are still hundreds of people walking, driving, talking, living. He feels disconnected from it all, which isn't really a surprise, but now he knows it's wrong and it shouldn't be like this at all.

Everything is just a little bit tragic.

His past haunts his every step and it constantly tries to get in front of him and cloud his future, but _she's_ in his past also, which is probably why he's able to continue forward.

And then there's Luke, the only person in his life who really cares about him all the time. And even _Lily-lou_, whom he promised he'd call at some point for her birthday. His right hand has been trembling for the past hour and there's a desire that he's only felt once before. It's really strange and he's not sure if he likes it or not.

He passes by Washington Square Park, thinking about the one time Liz took him there for a picnic. It's one of the first few memories he has of her and it's actually a happy one. Maybe that's why he's always been able to put up with her.

Well, at least he doesn't have to worry about her in the back of his mind. As much as he thinks TJ is an idiot, the guy definitely loves Liz.

He's back at his apartment and his hand is twitching even worse. Scraping his teeth over his bottom lip, he considers the red notebook in the bottom of his bag, half written. His hand stops moving for a few seconds and he comes to a decision.

* * *

A/N: This is really random, but I know some of you watch _Glee_ and if you're interested, I'm currently writing a Puck/Quinn fic on my LiveJournal account (linked on my profile - same username). You can click on my "glee" tag on the right hand side of the page and it'll be there :)

Please review!

MissGoalie


	103. It's A Problem I'm Dealing

A/N: Aw, remember this song?

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

'_Cuz there's a little bit of something me_

_In everything in you._

_I bet you're hard to get over,_

_I bet the room just won't shine_

_I bet my hands I can stay here_

_I bet you need – more than you mind._

_– Matchbox Twenty_

It's A Problem I'm Dealing

For months, Jess would skim dozens and dozens of books, trying to find a hint of what he's experiencing right now. A word or a paragraph will stick out, but he never finds that one character or that one storyline that really mirrors his life; it kind of freaks him out for some inadequate reason he can't put his finger on, which annoys him even more.

He plays hundreds of songs in stereos all over the place: in his mind, in diners, in apartments, and he can't cope with whatever the _fuck _this is.

He feels like he was dissected and put back together in the wrong way all those months ago.

Every time he sees her it just gets worse.

He has trouble breathing sometimes, wondering if things can possibly get worse because he doesn't think he can handle it anymore. Hasn't he done, suffered, _worked_ enough for a little stability in his life? Because as simple and stupid as it is, he's always wanted it.

Needed it, actually.

It's rather hard to admit to needing something.

And as he scrawls into an unused notebook, he feels a strange mixture of relief and being scared out of his fucking mind because _everything_ is labeled and out there at this point; by words on paper, sentiments revealed in cold February air, or staring into eyes that somehow reflect part of him as his hands shake in an empty dorm.

She gazes into his eyes in her grandparents' home when they try _them_ again and he realizes she can see part of herself in him also.

He doesn't think he could ever truly, completely, honestly ever get over her, but he's accepted the fact that she inspired him a little bit. And it's nice to know that he can do the same, which he _has_ done before; he forgot that along the way.

He has to think about it a lot and remind himself a million times, but eventually with time it'll just be automatic. There's probably a better way to handle this, but this seems to be okay for him.

He walks away from her at that bar, knowing she'll be able to pick up the pieces so much quicker than he did and he admires that about her. Driving back to Philly, he smiles a little to himself just because he can now.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the rather late update – I've been busy with other writing projects/I'm kind of a mess for some reason -_- I keep flitting from one idea to another in the _Glee_ fandom and it's kind of absurd. Check out my LJ if you want to read my works for that – more will certainly come in the future.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	104. Scratch The Surface

A/N: Well, this is it, guys. The moment that plenty of you have been waiting for. Sort of. It's kind of a cop out, but this is where I wanted to end it. Maybe if I find another song that inspires me, I'll actually write out that Literati scene that's actually my favorite.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I'm not in love,_

_This is not my heart,_

_I'm not gonna waste these words_

_About a girl._

_- The Academy Is…_

Scratch The Surface

The only reason Jess Mariano is in class right now is because they're in the computer lab, which he's wanted to use for the past few days without drawing attention to himself.

It's much more believable if he were in here with his class, even though it's pretty shocking these days to see him in school to begin with.

But for the first time in a few weeks, he gets up on time, heads to school, and stays for the entire day so he can use the computer lab last period.

It's days like these when he wishes he and Luke weren't so against modern technology and just buy a computer. It would save him a lot of grief and discomfort.

Dean shoots him an incredulous, disgusted look, which Jess ignores. There's really no point to instigating anything with the guy, especially since he got what he wanted and still _has_ what he wants, which never fails to put him a good mood.

Jess has no idea what the hell they're actually supposed to be using the computers for, but it doesn't really matter because he has no intention of following along. He waits until his teacher goes into lecture mode before he gets on the internet.

By no means is he technologically gifted, but he knows how to do simple things, like look up information.

Shifting his eyes around to make sure no one is watching him, he poises his hands on the keyboard. He looks up three different pieces of information, which doesn't take very long.

He can't believe he spent over seven hours in this hellhole just so he can do something that takes about five minutes.

What he does for this girl scares him sometimes.

* * *

He never admits to looking it up. That would be way too revealing, even though she already knows he did. Because if he told her that he did, it would be a loaded comment; she'd know how he feels whenever she beams at him, how in his mind he constantly finds himself back to her.

So he just pulls her tight to his side, kissing the top of her head with as much fondness as he can manage because even though he can't says yes, it doesn't mean he doesn't want to.

* * *

A/N: Yay! So yeah, hopefully that was a good start.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	105. No Need To Wonder

A/N: Okay, the reason for the late update: I HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO WRITE. Like, I knew the timeline, sometime shortly after the events of 3x07, but before their first official kiss in 3x08, but I just couldn't pick a moment in that timeline. It was really weird. I literally started three different oneshots, none of them feeling _right_ until this one. Yeesh.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_It's you._

_Every word you say I think,_

_I should write down,_

_Don't want to forget come daylight._

_And I give up,_

_I let you win,_

_You win cause I'm not counting._

_- Joshua Radin & Schuyler Fisk_

No Need To Wonder

"I'll be back."

He says it in a way that she just _knows_ he's not telling the truth; there is no part for his car. How Luke can't read this infamous tone of Jess' by now is a mystery to her.

It's kind of a joke how awkward this is because they're _not_ awkward. But they're stuck in this strange limbo where nothing is solidified even though everything is clear and _she really wants to kiss him_.

She purses her lips and looks down at the taco in her hands as he exits the diner, the bells chiming when the door shuts. Her mom's babbling about tacos and she really just wants…

She eats some of the tortilla, which now tastes dry like cardboard and all she can think about is _Jess_.

She catches him out the window walking away, heading towards Gypsy's. _Does he…?_

Her mom brings up Yale and she needs to get away right now. She has enough things to worry about with her grandparents and mom fighting and colleges and really, she doesn't need to be concerning over her status with Jess when she can easily fix it _right now_.

"I'm gonna go study," she blurts, the easiest and more pathetic excuse that pops into her head and she _knows_ her mom doesn't believe a second of it, but mercifully doesn't comment and lets her go.

She realizes as she's walking away from the diner that she forgot her sweater, but the night isn't _too_ cold and if things go well…

She blushes at the thought. It feels rather freeing, to not longer have an obstacle between them, helping her deny things. Besides, it got so _tiring_. Now there's just physical distance, which is decreasing with every step she takes (so very soon there won't be anythingbetweenthem).

_There_.

Her breath is _so_ stolen by this borderline-cinematic moment, his leaning casually against the gas pump, twirling a cigarette with his fingers, which she wants laced with hers so much it's like an ache.

"You're gonna smoke that or mind meld with it?"

It's a good thing that he can't seem to keep a straight face because she's pretty sure she's beaming.

And when he says, "So, here we are," her response mirrors his with a shrug of her shoulders. It's kind of like admitting defeat, but not as awful because it's totally _not_; it's more like accepting the inevitable.

He lightly tugs on her sweater, his face so close to hers and she just let's go.

* * *

A/N: So, is FFN having a meltdown or something? While I'm so glad it's working when it comes to Gilmore Girls and Rurouni Kenshin...it's totally not for the larger fandoms like HP. So sad.

If on the off-chance you do like my HP stories, I'm probably going to start exclusively posting them on my LJ account since I can't post new stories on here anymore.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	106. I Want You

A/N: How did I notice how _Lit_ this song is? Again, I'm sorry about the late updates – I think it's safe to say that these will be around once a week now. At least until summer when I have all the time in the world :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Do I have to spell it out for you,_

_Or scream it in your face?_

_Oh, the chemistry between us could destroy this place._

_Do I have to spell it out for you,_

_Or whisper in your ear?_

_Oh, just stop right there,_

_I think that we've got something here._

_– The Spill Canvas_

I Want You

It's so very simple, at least in Jess' mind; how can she not see it? How she's both so naïve and incisive is beyond his understanding, not to mention it's _incredibly frustrating_.

Half the time he wants to sit her down and flat out explain that _this is what ACTUAL chemistry is and this is what we're supposed to do about it_ and the other half of the time he just wants to pin her to a wall, not even bother with words because touches, short breaths, and tongues can be so much more eloquent.

He wonders how long this can continue; it seems like everything is hanging on a fine thread. Lorelai shoots him searching glares and Dean becomes increasingly hostile whenever Jess bothers to show up to school, always using his goddamned height to "intimidate" and smiling smugly when Rory takes his hand in the diner. Their fingers don't even mesh or _anything_ – it's so beyond platonic that Jess feels like he's watching forced incest.

(He doesn't think about how he'd want to lace his hands with hers so they can keep hold of each other as whatever's between them continues to spark (it might ultimately cause their demise)).

He's actually more than a little surprised when she finally cracks and kisses him because he was thinking that he was going to be the one to act first.

Just _another_ reason to like this fucking annoying girl.

His mind's made up; his mouth is shut for now, but once she comes back from Washington (way to a take a leaflet from his book by running away), all bets are off.

* * *

A/N: First LJ is being a bitch and now FFN? Seriously, the internet needs to get its shit together.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	107. Isn't He A Bit Like You And Me?

A/N: I was screening _Yellow Submarine_ to my cousin and this Beatles song caught my attention.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_He's as blind as he can be,_

_Just sees what he wants to see,_

_Nowhere Man, can you see me at all?_

_- The Beatles_

Isn't He A Bit Like You And Me?

It's really random, but she's driving down i95 South with Finn, of all people, when "Nowhere Man" comes onto the local radio station and she thinks of Jess Mariano.

He hasn't crossed her mind in a while, to be honest, but the suddenness of the moment has her slowing down, her hands tightening on the wheel. The car behind her flashes its lights but she ignores it.

"Hey, love, you're slowing down," Finn says, his accent making the sentence sound so much better.

"Oh, sorry," she says automatically, pressing her foot on the gas pedal harder to get back to the speed she was at before.

"You were a million miles away for a moment there. What was going through that gorgeous head of yours?"

She traps her bottom lip between her teeth. "No one. Just…someone who used to…always be there and isn't anymore."

"That's good and vague."

She smiles. "A woman never reveals her secrets."

"Oh, a _scandalous _someone."

"Hardly."

"Scandalous for Miss Rory Gilmore, then."

She tries not to think about how Jess' influence in her life is _nothing_ bad in comparison to stealing a yacht.

"Except, you know, borrowing a yacht for a spin around Long Island Sound."

Why Finn is her favorite of Logan's best friends is really clear to her sometimes.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Whom were you thinking about?"

"Just…someone who used to live in Stars Hollow. But he…" she's about to tell him that he _ran away_, but she ends up saying, "Left. Two years ago." This actually sounds better to her now, but she doesn't know why.

"Have you seen him since?"

Then she realizes she gave away the gender and it's all so _bloody obvious_, as Finn would say.

"Yes."

"_Oh_, I take it they weren't lovely encounters."

"They weren't."

They let the Beatles envelop the silence.

"You still care about him, though," he says in a rather subdued manner, which she's never heard before.

"…Kind of. Yes."

He drops a hand on her knee and squeezes, the gesture, for once, not a come on. "It's good to care about the Nowhere Men."

"He doesn't have to be one, though," she answers so softly that she half-hopes he can't hear her.

"Honestly? If you could whip _Logan Huntzberger_ in monogamy, then I'm _sure_ you did _something_ to that poor bastard."

She wants to say that Logan's issues can't even be compared to Jess', the guy who glossed over his past with broad strokes because there were _really bad_ things that he didn't think she could handle (he was half-right).

She bites back an "I hope so" because that's a little too revealing; she doesn't even know Finn's _major_.

"What's your major?" she blurts, feeling stupid and too much like a shitty friend, even he's really Logan's.

Finn grins wryly. "Business. International. I have no fucking idea what I'm going to do with it anyway; I'm just as bad as he is."

"Who?"

"Your _friend_."

She's about to open her mouth and say something, like, _at least you're getting an education and you're on a path_, but then she realizes that she has absolutely _no right_ to be making any sort of statement about futures and paths because she's driving on i95 with Logan's best friend to _god knows where_ and she hasn't spoken with her mom in almost two weeks.

_Isn't he a bit like you and me?_

It's almost humbling.

"Where are we going, anyway?" she asks him after the song ends.

He wiggles his eyebrows. "Nowhere Land."

She rolls her eyes.

"Okay, Greenwich. One of Logan's prep school friends has a house there."

"Oh."

"You know, it's okay to not have an idea."

"I've never been like that before. Like _this_ before."

"Well you were a strange child. Welcome to the real world, darling, where a lot of people don't know what the fuck they're doing."

She hums in thought as they pass the exit for Westport, suddenly remembering the Springsteen family and Carol "following her own path." It's strange looking back on that now. It kind of hurts, actually. She hugged her mom that day because she really thought her mom would support her no matter what she ended up doing.

This is way too serious to think about now, especially with Finn in the passenger seat and an upbeat Beatles song playing (is this a Beatles hour or something?).

"Are you going to tell Logan about this?" she inquires.

He shrugs. "Does Logan know about this _friend_ of yours?"

"Could you stop adding a certain connotation to _friend_? I haven't seen him in a year. And yes, I briefly mentioned him; Logan knows of his existence."

"Then I guess I have nothing to share with him."

She finds this gesture incredibly kind.

Perhaps she doesn't have to go through Nowhere Land alone.

* * *

A/N: Thought I'd give a Rory/Finn friendship fic a shot *shrug*. Hope it was somewhat entertaining.

Please review! It was my birthday on 4/22 so it could be belated birthday present :) Also, we're getting ridiculously close to 1000 reviews! Whoever is the 1000th review gets a oneshot!

MissGoalie


	108. Still

A/N: Hey, remember Yellowcard? Yeah.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I get lost sometimes,_

_Another year flies by,_

_But I know if I try,_

_Memories of the light in your eyes_

_Can take me back in time._

_- Yellowcard_

Still

**i used to know which way to turn; you were a light inside a tunnel in my head i try to follow…**

Jess thinks it's a little fucked up and a lot pathetic that he's still using her as some sort of guiding purpose. After all, he was the one that single-handedly put an end to their relationship, even if she was the one to say the words.

It's sad – he never cared until he met her; maybe he just didn't realize he, oh _fuck_, actually _needed_ it, her, _someone_ to actually give a shit.

People, _normal_ people seem to know this instinctively, or at least can recognize it at a young age. Does nobody realize how fucking _difficult_ it is to force yourself to forget that and then be forced to accept it years later?

Maybe that was the problem with Rory – as much as she was (is?) a "beacon of hope" or whatever, she wasn't capable of understanding (and maybe that's his fault for not giving her a chance).

**it's hard to see you, we are older now, and when i find you, you just turn around.**

Rory is rarely (if ever) rejected in any way, shape, or form. So it's a bit disconcerting (not to mention extremely embarrassing) that Jess walks away _every time_ they manage to find each other in this too small town.

Or maybe it just hurts her pride (she did always think Jess shared many traits with Mr. Darcy, after all). After all, isn't _she_ the one who's supposed to be walking away from him?

She doesn't know if these run-ins are subconscious, accidental, or fate, but she does know that this _hurts_ even though he shouldn't be able to affect her one bit.

(What a joke).

**no more apologies from me; my arms are tired of picking up what i put down, you're all i think of…**

He's just reached this point in his life that he honestly can't give a shit anymore about her. At least, not in the way he was able to before; it's manifested and twisted to the point of killing him.

He needed to let go and move on. So he does. If there's one thing he can pride himself on it's his strength of mind, so he puts it to excellent use and in the end, he's writing the last sentence of his short novel (oh, fuck that shit, it's a _book_ and he's damn _proud_ of it).

Maybe this book can be construed as an apology to her, but he'd rather just see it as an accumulation of his growth – she's inevitably part of it, but _this_, writing it and thinking of it, saved him.

**i don't hear music anymore; my ears are tired of all the pictures in the words 'cause you are in them…**

It's not her vast library of books that are compromised when Jess leaves. Sure, she has to put away _Howl_ and _The Holy Barbarians_ and a few others, but it doesn't do a lot of damage.

Surprisingly, it's her music collection that suffers.

They somehow managed to bond over and analyze so many songs together that it almost wipes out her entire collection when she's done boxing every CD that reminds her of him. It's stupid and kind of unfair, especially since she took that passion for granted, always associating it with Lane.

"Guns of Brixton" makes her sulky, Velvet Underground makes her flustered and fills her with longing and "Tiny Dancer" makes her impossibly angry. Each song now comes with an emotional disclaimer.

(Along with everything else that reminds her of him).

* * *

A/N: I just need school to end so I can have me-time again! Yeesh.

Please review!

MissGoalie


	109. Released

A/N: So, remember how I attempted an M-rated oneshot all the way back in chapter 60? And then I wrote a half-ass "sequel" on LiveJournal (go to my !masterlists tag and it's linked in the oldest post)? I decided to flesh out the sequel.

**This is DEFINITELY RATED M.**

Now _this_ is a milestone for me because it's practically smut, almost, sort of. A sad attempt, anyway.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_When every move_

_And each impulse_

_Brings clarity_

_To stay like this_

_Is everything_

_You'll ever need._

_– Dashboard Confessional_

Released

Yesterday morning when Rory was in the diner with her mom, splitting pancakes and eggs and bacon, she overheard Luke on the phone with some delivery person, confirming that he would be able to do a pickup at six in the morning tomorrow. In a town that's over two hours away.

In that moment, Rory comes to the decision that she will visit Jess.

It's kind of sad, really, that it has to come down to sneaking into Luke's apartment at six in the morning during _spring break_, but her mom has been even _more_ nervous about leaving the two alone together after last time.

So…that's it. She's going to sneak out of her house at six in the morning and return the favor. Seems easy enough.

* * *

Okay, she's freaking out.

She wakes herself up at four in the morning because she's stupidly nervous. There's no reason to be – he's fully aware of her inexperience and hasn't made any sort of comment or did anything to make her feel uncomfortable. This shouldn't be any different.

Except it is and she can't get the illogical portion of her brain to shut up.

But her worrying ends up eating a lot of time and eventually it's a quarter to six. She leaves a note on her pillow, just in case, saying she's reading out by the bridge and will be back later.

She puts on a pair of sweatpants and a Yale sweatshirt and hopes that no one is awake at this hour to catch her. Thankfully, the town doesn't seem to wake up until around eight, so she sees no one on her walk to the diner.

She jumps to reach for the spare key on top of the doorframe and lets herself in, barely remembering to lock the door behind her before taking off to the apartment up the stairs.

It's strange to see him this way, relaxed and sleeping with messy (and _really_ sexy) hair without product, but she immediately falls in love with it and wishes she had a camera to preserve it.

Careful to not make a nose, she tiptoes to bed and takes a seat on the edge.

"Jess," Rory whispers, reaching over to shake his shoulder.

Suddenly, he shoots up and grips her forearm tightly, his eyes wide but glassy with sleep.

"Jess!" she exclaims, quieter than she originally meant, but is ultimately glad she didn't scream to wake up the entire street. "It's just me."

He immediately lets go of her arm and blinks his eyes a few times before exhaling, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "Jesus, Rory."

She bites her bottom lip and wraps her arms around him. "Sorry."

"What are you doing here anyway?" he asks, his voice gravely from sleep and it _does_ something to her, "What time is it?"

She winces. "Six?"

"…There better be a _very_ good reason for this little drop in, Gilmore."

She swallows, holding on to him tighter because now she's nervous. Not even a few seconds later, he pulls himself out of her hold so he can look into her face. "What?" he asks before clearing his throat.

"I like your bed head," she blurts because she likes to spew random nonsense whenever she's uneasy.

"I doubt you snuck into the apartment a la James Bond just so you could see me _au naturel_."

She flushes because _how_ does he always know what kind of brain wavelength she's on?

"I see you're picking up some foreign languages."

He lifts a hand between then and grazes her cheek oh-so softly. "What do you want?" he asks her, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes intense as he stares.

She inhales sharply, squeezes her eyes shut and rests her forehead against his. "I want…" she starts, her hand slowly drifting somewhere in the middle of one of his strong, wiry thighs.

He tenses under her hand and she tries to look at his face, but it's too hard and too up close to see his expression.

"Are you sure?" he inquires, his voice dropping to the octave it was when he first woke up.

"Yes," she breathes, reaching higher to his waist so she can pull his comforter down to his knees, revealing the dark gray boxers he's wearing. She sneaks a glance downwards and can see that he's half-hard already and _oh god_, she's only felt him thought layers and layers of clothing; it's almost too much right now.

He takes one of her hands and holds it firmly. "Rory…"

"I don't know why I'm _nervous_. I mean yeah, I do, actually, because I've never done this before _ever_ and I have _no clue_ what I'm doing or attempting to do and –"

He presses his lips onto the corner of her mouth. "I'm not judging."

Of course he's not because he _never_ does.

She breathes for about a minute until she moves her hands so they rest on his hips where the elastic meets his skin. Her heart is beating fast in her chest and _damn it_, _I just want to make him feel the way he made me feel._

He chuckles and she realizes with pure horror that she said that out loud.

"Oh god," she mutters, resting her head on his shoulder.

She can feel him shake his head. "You're something else."

"Yeah, I'm apparently not just a tease with literature, but I am with intimacy, so just let me die of mortification. Or better yet, you can ease me out of my misery by bludgeoning me with one of the many books in here – I do believe you have my hardcover of _David Copperfield_, which I'm sure you've mutilated with your jaded views."

"First of all, every copy of that book is _begging_ to be ripped to shreds by 'jaded' logic. And second of all, I know you're not doing this on purpose – _that's_ what a tease is. So stop your self-pitying. It doesn't look good on you."

She lifts her head with a pout to look at him.

"How about we warm up," he suggests, his eyes shining with mischief and just a little bit of affection that she's been seeing a lot of lately.

She smiles at the memory and kisses him.

He's so _warm_. Somehow with just a thin shirt and boxers, he's even hotter to touch and one of these days she really wants to feel all of him, but this is more than enough.

Until all too quickly, heat is pooling low in her stomach, very much like last time, and she feels bolder as his tongue touches behind her front teeth, a weird place that somehow feel _so good_. Her hand drifts between them, low, until it stops between his legs and she cups him tentatively.

He bucks into her hand and catapults forward so his forehead is on her shoulder, his breathing ragged. _Whoa_.

Her breathing is beginning to match his at the realization that she can undo him just as efficiently as he can undo her. It's rather empowering. She begins to move her hand but his quickly stops hers. "Wait…just wait," he breathes before groaning, "Fuck, this is embarrassing."

She focuses her breathing and she almost misses his asking, "How are you?" still sounding out of breath, but a little calmer.

"Okay. Good. Uh now…can I…?"

"Yes, _please_, by all means, go ahead."

She laughs a little and kisses him, her arm in an awkward position as she tries to create friction for him. Her strokes are uneven and she's pretty sure this is the worst attempt at third base ever, but he growls into her mouth, low and rumbling and not like a moan, but it's encouraging.

And then finally, _finally_ she gathers every bit of courage she has and slips her hand inside his boxers.

_Oh_. Okay. So _that's_ what it feels like.

She may never have done this before, but she thinks she can safely say her boyfriend is well equipped.

Jess' head moves so he half-moans, half-whimpers into her neck. She's _never_ seen him so _wrecked_ before; it's strange in the most amazing way possible. As she strokes him, she concentrates on the quiet noises he makes and the roll of his hips to know what he likes. She's so concentrated on this that she doesn't realize he's untying the drawstrings of her pants until his fingers are brushing against the edge of her underwear.

"No, no, just you," she whispers in his ear even though _yes_, she would love a repeat of two weeks ago; last time was about her, this time it's about him.

"Ror -" he bites out in warning.

She really doesn't understand why people can't see what she sees – he's very considerate. "It's okay."

A few seconds later she feels something wet and hot cover her fist as he grips her hips tightly, his body alternating between tensing and shuttering. She was wrong; he's quiet just like her.

With her free hand, she brings it to the back of his neck to play with the hair that curls against his skin, feeling him shake under her.

She bites her bottom lip as she uncurls her hand and takes it out, careful not to dirty his shirt and sheets (obviously it's too late to save the boxers). Cocking her head to the side, she stares at the substance covering her hand, oddly fascinated. He begins to weakly chuckle.

"You can use the bathroom first," he murmurs, turning his head to face her.

She admires the flush in his cheeks and the _shine_ in his eyes; he's _beautiful_ and the rising sun streaming through the window is making this picturesque. She kisses him hard for a few seconds before hopping off the bed, unsteady on her feet as she walks to the bathroom.

It takes her a few a few minutes to wash her hands and deem her face to be an acceptable shade of pink. When she steps out, Jess is standing there holding a clean pair of boxers, subtly placing them in front of the pair he's wearing. She smiles shyly and feels herself blushing all over again. Staring at her feet, she can see him walk to the door, stop, and suddenly kiss her on the cheek before entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

She lets out a sigh, a smile so large expanding on her face.

Today, she's basking in a sense of clarity that may fade over the past few weeks, but its remnants should linger, for better or worse. But right now, for the first time in what she's sure is forever, she's not pondering on the future and what's going to happen because the present is thrumming with possibilities.

* * *

A/N: So, yeah. Good, bad, awful, awesome? I won't know unless you R-E-V-I-E-W!

MissGoalie


	110. This Is Not The EndBeginning

A/N: Okay, I know I'm not the only kid who had Linkin Park on repeat in middle school. I should definitely listen to _Meteora _soon, but for now, their newest single is definitely inspiring.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_All caught up in the eye of the storm_

_And trying to figure out what it's like moving on_

_And I don't even know what kind of things I said,_

_My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead._

_So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin,_

_The hardest part of ending is starting again._

_– Linkin Park_

This Is Not The End, This Is Not The Beginning

He can't sense where he is in this stupid narrative that is his life, where everyone plays dual roles of protagonist and antagonist, depending on the moment. As he grows up, deviates onto his own path, for better or for worse, he's finds these characters – these people in his life who seem to do more damage than good, in the end – are finally finding their places in his life.

Liz: an anti-villain; a humanized villain he can't bring himself to hate, even though he wants to for everything she's ever done for, to, with him.

Luke: an anti-hero; seemingly deluded and apathetic, but in reality is the complete opposite (at least with the apathy – he _is_ quite delusional sometimes).

The World/Society/Whatever: everyone's a fucking villain; they like demonizing him, so he does the same.

Rory: heroine; it pretty much goes without saying (even if he was reluctant about it).

But even though his life is continuing on, stumble after stumble, he finds himself wishing he could start new, not even bother going back to fix what he did (because the three times he did ended with his walking away without looking back, wishing he didn't even bother in the first place).

He supposes he won't have an ending or beginning because unlike novels or movies, life doesn't have them except birth and death. However, like novels and movies, there are acts, chapters, divisions and arcs that define and organize changes of character.

He travels some more, trying to find a place where he can start fresh and new, resigning to just starting a new chapter as opposed to a rewrite. By the time he finds it, he doesn't even realize its actually happening until Chris hands back his short novel and says, "Let's print this."

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the late update, guys, my muse for GG has been hibernating while my Glee muse has been taking over my life :/ (If you're interested in my Glee fics, check out my LiveJournal!)

I have a tumblr! It's the same as my user on here, so follow me!

Please review!

MissGoalie


	111. Are You Sure That She's The One?

A/N: New All Time Low album!

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_You know…_

_There are some days where I really feel like this could work,_

_Like you and I are finally gonna get it right._

_Then there are days like today,_

_When you make me_

_Want to tear my fucking hair out._

_- All Time Low_

Are You Sure That She's The One?

**You are a handful of roses, thorns and a cheap bouquet.**

To be honest, the appeal of Rory began to dissipate once they began dating. It sounds terrible, but it's not necessarily a bad thing; it's like she's become more tangible, human. He knew she was a flawed individual to begin with, but everything was conceptual until they finally kissed by a gas pump.

Now that Jess gets to stand within a foot of her and can feel emotions through her eyes and the curve of her waist, he's come to the conclusion that she's a lot more fucked up than she lets on. But it takes him too long to realize that it's more than that: she actually doesn't think there's anything _wrong_ with her to begin with.

Sure, Jess is totally new to the whole legitimate relationship thing, but he's pretty sure he shouldn't be feeling like he's compromising a lot more than she is. He never brings it up and he ignores it because it's not a totally unfamiliar feeling. Besides, she just makes him _happy_, which is pathetic and lame, but he can't help it.

So yeah, she's far from perfect and there are days when he wishes she would just shut the fuck up and use her brain for herself and not for the town or family. But then she'll smile or she'll be turning a page of his copy of _Ham On Rye_ and he'll be enraptured and forget about (most of) the negative things.

**True, I'm a walking disaster, they told you to stay away.**

Oh, he's _totally_ aware of what a cliché he is sometimes. He hates it, but he knows the kinds of characters he resembles and how appealing they are from the outside. Of course, there are a few who _don't_ find it charming (see: Lorelai, Dosey, and even Luke), but Rory managed to at least see beyond it (despite liking it in the first place).

At least for a little while.

He remembers the night of the fire and how she avoided his gaze while asking about his school attendance, knowing without a doubt that he's lying through his teeth, annoying him to no end.

He didn't need anyone making him feel like a wreck; he did the job just fine without her judgmental blue eyes, growing more similar to her mother's with the coming of summer.

But at the end of the day, he's kind of the better person for not calling her out at her grandparents' house; he really doubts the Rory he dated years ago would think very highly of this done-up carbon copy.

**You are a shining example of why I don't sleep at all.**

Jess is actually quite the insomniac; sometimes his brain just won't shut the fuck up at night. For most of his life, it was because he was thinking about making rent and keeping away from social welfare, but after living in Stars Hollow, Rory inadvertently started to plague him, creating a Gordian knot in his mind.

(He wishes he could say he completely untangled it, but he knows the legend.)

**I feel like a bad joke, walk the tight rope to hold on to you.**

It's kind of bad how she makes him feel sometimes; is your girlfriend supposed to make you feel like shit half the time? Probably not. But the highs do make up for the lows (most of the time, anyway).

Who'd of thought he'd be involved in a borderline emotionally abusive relationship? He's over exaggerating to a ridiculous degree, but it's hard to shake that feeling off when he's staring at her blank expression, disappointed eyes, trembling on the back of a bus as he begins his journey west.

(_Can't she see that they share this burden of their failed relationship?_)

She never liked being smothered, which he knew and worked to his advantage to an extent, but he never realized that Dean maybe had a reason for keeping a heavy arm around her shoulders and glaring at Jess whenever he could; he knew how hard it was to get someone like Rory and keep her entertained and this was his way of holding on.

Sure, it was a challenge and a thrill and Jess grew to actually like her, but in the end, maybe he was too much on the other end of the spectrum for her.

**I don't think I can forget about it.**

She may be the most ridiculous runner, the most stubborn fighter, the prodigal daughter and granddaughter, the pride and glory of a town of backwards ways of thinking, the mediocre kisser whose same lips form one of the greatest smiles he's ever seen, but at least she made an impression on him, which he can always appreciate in a dull world that never fails to bore him.

* * *

A/N: Um...please review? Enjoy your day? That works!

MissGoalie


	112. All Of The Lights

A/N: You should really check all the singers in this song – there are SO many. It's awesome.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Turn up the lights in here, baby,_

_Extra bright, I want y'all to see this._

_Turn up the lights in here, baby,_

_You know what I need,_

_Want you to see everything,_

_Want you to see all of the lights._

_– Kanye West_

All Of The Lights

**cop lights.**

He always knew Rory looked nice in all shades of blue, but having cop lights flash over her confused and upset face looked twisted, out of one of his nightmares; she wasn't meant to see this, the way he looks dark and wild under flashing red, white, and blue.

As he walked further away, the lights dimmed until he was surrounded by darkness. Fitting.

The bridge wasn't calming him like it had been doing for the past few months, which had to mean something. He figured he was too wound up and needed to smoke a pack, but as the moonlight flickered on the water, giving way to early sunlight, he knew he overstayed his welcome.

_Fuck._

It was the second time he almost cried over Rory Gilmore.

(He was going to have two more instances of this before allowing sobs to rack his body – a year later.)

**flashlights.**

His only defense was that he was bored and the locker he and his "friends" decimated belonged to an asshole who ripped one of Jess' books in half early that day. The only reason why they were caught was because one of his "friends" forgot to turn off his flashlight as they ran like hell down the hallway.

A security guard pinned them down as he obnoxiously flashed all of them in the eyes with his own flashlight, calling the police to have them arrested for trespassing.

It was the first and only time Jess used a flashlight for something other than reading under the covers at night, or when Liz forgot to pay the electric bill.

It was the final straw for Liz and off he went to Connecticut, to Luke who _never_ forgot to pay the electric bill and used flashlights in dimly lit crawlspaces.

It was something he thought he could grow used to.

**spotlights.**

Never did he imagine that he'd be sitting on a stage, a light shining on him from above as he looked ahead at the rows of seats occupied by students, his book in most of their hands.

It was his first book signing in a local Philadelphia community college and he was stupidly nervous. He never liked having attention on him and every nerve in his body was telling him to sneak off. His fingers were strumming on he knees, craving a cigarette.

But the few people sitting below him were there for him, God knows why, and he was trying a new thing that involved not letting people down. He had a pretty good record so far and he wanted to keep it.

So he inhaled and exhaled deeply before raising an eyebrow at everyone. "Well? What do you want?"

**strobe lights.**

It was his first night back in New York City in months and he was at someone's apartment, a cheap strobe light flashing in the most annoying way. There were people lighting up in one corner, a couple rounding on second base in another corner, and Jess was _screaming_ in his mind.

He actually thinks he may have a concussion from the accident because his head was hurting like a _bitch_ and he felt rather nauseous. Although he could've easily blamed it on the secondhand weed, cheap beer, and lights.

When he steps outside, he can see the strobe lights from the pavement, like a lighthouse in a dark sea.

He forced himself to vomit in a nearby trashcan, but the nausea remained. He's pretty sure that this is what guilt feels like, but it was such a foreign concept to him at the time that he dismissed it as nothing.

(He was about to become better acquainted with it later, like an old lover, but he's glad he had no sense of the future because he never would've came back otherwise.)

**streetlights.**

There was one night when Jess was six and Liz actually locked him out of the apartment so she could spend uninterrupted time with her boyfriend at the time. He remembers resting his forehead against the door, trying to fight off hot tears because he's pretty sure you're only supposed to do this with misbehaving dogs, not small boys with the tendency to check out when reading.

Eventually an instinctual part of him (he thinks he might have aged ten years in ten seconds) drove him to walk away from the apartment, out of the building, and to the park.

The streetlights on the sidewalk lit the way, making his small hands look sickly yellow and old. He was pretty sure he saw an eighty-year-old's set of hands that night.

He stuffed them in his pockets because they crept him out so much more than the imaginary monsters under the bed.

The streetlights of New York City became his North Star to chaos, peace, and everything else in between that night.

**all of the lights.**

Rory called him "mystery man" for a reason – he likes to keep his secrets. But this book? Writing it and giving to others to read and potentially rip apart? It went against everything he ever did, thought, and believed in.

Telling Rory things that nobody knew was one thing, but watching people he barely knew judge his work was fucking _scary_ – it was like harsh sunlight burning his eyes, revealing every nook and cranny of his emotional sphere, scars he hid under clothing and snark.

He always wanted people to have no expectations for him – it made life easier. But after Rory and Luke and even Liz, just a little, he found himself _hoping_ that these two guys will see what he feels when he puts pen to paper.

That what he writes and says, that _he_ is fucking _worth _something; he'll flash every goddamn light in this cramped room and unfamiliar city to prove it.

* * *

A/N: Please review!

MissGoalie


	113. I See It All Now That You're Gone

A/N: Aaaaangst.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Well maybe it's me_

_And my blind optimism to blame._

_Or maybe it's you and your sick need_

_To give love then take it away._

_And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors who don't understand,_

_And I'll look back in regret how I ignored when they said,_

_"Run as fast as you can."_

_- Taylor Swift_

I See It All Now That You're Gone

Is it possible to feel so much _nothing_ that it hurts? Or maybe hurt so much that it doesn't feel like anything at all?

Rory debates it as she sits on her bed, staring at the corkboard of Yale paraphernalia, but not seeing it. She has so many things to do – sitting and staring into nothing, thinking about nothing (avoiding, avoiding, _pushing__away_) is not allowed. It can't be scheduled in and completed before finishing her Calc packet.

(One of her Calc problems had the result of 22.8 and she redid the problem at least three times to make sure it was the right answer.)

She wishes she knew what was going through his head on the bus – was it as scrambled and filled with too much like hers? Sometimes they function the same way.

Or maybe he just didn't think about anything except getting to where he wanted to go. That wouldn't surprise her either.

Soon enough it's four in the morning and she figures it's best to start her day now.

* * *

She has only one conversation with Luke about Jess and it's short. She takes a seat on one of the stools, asks him frankly where Jess went. Luke kicks Kirk out of the diner and tells Rory about Jess' dad, Jimmy, the fight, the not graduating, the kicking out. It only takes him a minute or so.

He apologizes to her. She apologizes to him. Rory drinks her coffee and can practically taste the salt of her tears along with the bitterness of caffeine and regret. Luke looks the other way.

Lorelai doesn't know how much Rory actually knows.

* * *

There's an empty seat in the row of chairs at Rory's graduation and she does her best to ignore it.

And what's really sad? How in her speech when she talks about living in two worlds – her books and her real life? For Jess, the world of books is superior, which is so, _so_ sad.

(Even if it kills her that she wasn't enough for him. (It's so embarrassing, hurtful, _wrong_. (If only he _talked_, maybe she could understand how fiction can be so much better reality.)))

As much as she talked and rambled on the phone, she still feels like she didn't say enough, didn't say what she really wanted. It's frustrating and unfair because it would've been so much _easier_ if he did something beyond holding his breath on the other end of the line.

(Doesn't she deserve that?)

_I think I may have loved you._

She prides herself in being as honest with him as she could, even though he never was, clearly. But that? _I __think __I__ may __have __loved __you_? That was a goddamn _lie_ and she catches herself staring at the ceiling at night, wondering _why_ she said that when it's so not true.

(Maybe that's why she comes up with hundreds of confrontations with him if she were to ever see him again.)

* * *

_I __love __you_.

And yet he's honest here, now, _of __all __times_. Maybe that's what bothers her the most – they're not anything anymore; he may owe her for what he did to their relationship, but he could've gotten away with everything today.

_I __love __you_.

She walks home in a daze, her appetite long gone as she feels this disturbing sense of ignorance.

_I love you._

She _knew_ that she didn't know a lot about Jess and his past and issues, but _this_ shook her beyond anything she thought possible: he was _never_ that honest and vulnerable with her until he said those three stupid, too late, _heartbreaking _words.

_I love you._

Hot tears spill from her eyes without warning and _why__is__she__crying_? She cried enough over him – didn't she?

_I __love __you_.

(She cried twice – the night she found out for sure that he was gone and once when she woke up from a horrible nightmare in Italy – she kept pushing him and yelling at him and eventually she pushed him off a balcony, which she soon fell over, black _nothing_ swallowing her whole.)

(_I __love __you __too._)

* * *

Eventually the tears stop and she just crawls into bed and pretends to sleep, even when Lorelai peaks her head in.

She knows she'll have to tell her mom eventually, but she uses the night to prepare herself, practice what she'll say to make it sound as detached as possible.

(In the morning she almost wishes she never told her mom – it practically fouls Jess' words, which he always puts so much care in. But Rory doesn't say anything. She never does. Maybe that's a problem, but she doesn't think about it.)

* * *

Family, friends, school, life goes on.

(Even though certain things stay hidden in deep, dark corners of her mind.)

* * *

She cries into her hands because while he was so, so wrong, she was too.

He hurt her a lot more than she wants to admit, but he's been shouldering too much blame for what happened to them.

She cries because she's pretty damn certain that his mother and his mysterious, dangerous, _scary_ life did this to him. She cries because while he distances himself from others, nobody deserves to be alone. She cries because she wants to actually have a conversation with him but he's driven off and for once, he's totally in the right to do; she rejected him as plainly as anyone could.

(_No, __no, __no._)

There's a heavy weight settling on her own shoulders and it's the acceptation of responsibility for her part.

It wasn't just about giving her trust and care onto a boy who was clearly so _starved_ of it for most of his life – it was about not trusting him enough, giving him a fair chance like she did with Dean. It would've been hard, but wasn't her relationship with Jess just as hard for him?

This is really just too hard; it was always hard whenever things got difficult. Frankly, she's over that. She wants easy and comfortable and dependable and –

_Oh._

* * *

A/N: Please review!

MissGoalie


	114. But You Look So Good It Hurts Sometimes

A/N: Hahaha the last song was about John Mayer, this next one is by John Mayer…

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I'm never speaking up again,_

_Now there's no reason._

_I've got the kind of love in my hands_

_To last all seasons and seasons._

_- John Mayer_

But You Look So Good It Hurts Sometimes

It's downright silly for Rory to be anxious – she's been on dozens of dates at this point, some of them in nice, expensive (in her opinion) restaurants. Going on a date with Jess shouldn't feel different, especially since all they'll be doing is watching a movie or two in Luke's apartment. (They were going to go out for a movie, but the showing is _The __Scarlet __Letter_ (the awful remake) and Taylor is carding everyone at the door – not that it matters since Rory and Jess both despise the remake, Jess in particular.)

Even so, she's wearing her nicer pair of jeans and a sweater that she remembers his admiring her in last year. They're sitting close together – she can feel the almost burning heat from his thigh against hers and her hands are folded in her lap.

She's restless. Her back is perfectly, almost painfully straight and she doesn't want to watch John Travolta and Uma Thurman eating burgers. She's tempted to glance over at Jess, but she doesn't want to be caught staring even though –

Jess reaches over to her lap and takes one of her hands, lacing it with his. "You're not in class, you know," he says with a gentle nudge and a smirk.

She lets out a breath she didn't quite realize she was holding. "Huh, I was wondering where my classmates were," she jokes, but it falls flat.

He squeezes her hand, forcing her to look at him. "What's up?"

She bites her bottom lip for a moment. This shouldn't be happening – there's no _reason_ to restrain herself since they're _dating_ now.

But –

She pulls his hand to get him closer so she can kiss him. It's closed-mouthed and hard, but it's _something._ (Third kiss with Jess Mariano and the marvel of it hasn't faded one iota.)

He pulls away and stares at her with that intense expression he gets on his face whenever he's reading a new book or, as she's come to discover, trying to read _her_.

She's about to turn her head and (pretend to) focus on the movie again, but Jess uses his free hand to cup her face, rubbing her cheekbone with a calloused thumb. Her breath hitches in her throat.

It looks as if he's about to say something, but instead he leans in and kisses her in a softer way that sends _tingles_ to her fingertips and toes – it aches, but in a good, _real_ way that makes her bring her hands to his face and deepen the kiss. As one of her hands drifts to the back of his head to card through his hair, he shudders and opens his mouth and _wow_, okay, now they're really making out.

Kissing him is _really_ different from kissing Dean. With Dean, she felt like she had a better handle on herself, like she never felt herself slipping into something scary and unknown. Jess, on the other hand, _consumes_ her and yes, it's scary and unknown, but it's equally thrilling and _right_.

Somehow she finds herself basically _straddling_ him and his hands are _scalding_ on her sides, making her vaguely wonder if he'd leave burns if there weren't a sweater between his hands and his skin. It makes her shiver and feel nervous all over again. She brings face to his neck to breathe, finding this almost too overwhelming, but not enough to actually stop because why the _hell_ would she want to?

He then decides to kiss her neck and _ohmygod_, why has she not really experienced this before? It's so good and intense and _why _does it feel like there's something hot tugging in her stomach?

She lets out an involuntary whimper when she feels a scrape of teeth – well, she never thought she'd be capable of making _that_noise – and pulls back to rest her forehead against his, hoping to get her breathing in check.

"Sorry," he says, his voice deep and scratchy, making her dizzy.

"No, um…" Her voice sounds different too, which makes him hold her tighter. "I just…this is…a lot. In a good way."

He nods once, letting out a breath as he lowers his hands from her waist to the top of her thighs, right above her knees. "Just, uh…let me know, I guess," he says after clearing his throat.

She knows what he means and she appreciates it. Even though of course she knows how to say _no_ and to not let anyone pressure her, but it's still comforting to hear that he wants to do his best to not freak her out.

She almost wants to ask about his history because he clearly knows what he's doing a lot more than she does, but she's afraid to know at the same time, so she keeps it to herself. At least for now.

"As much as I love having you here, you may want to get off me in case Luke comes up," he adds with a cross between a smile and a smirk.

Blushing, she quickly flops back to her original spot. He chuckles a little, draping his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers a little.

"Oh damn, we missed the overdose scene," Jess curses, picking up the remote to rewind the movie.

Wow, did she really not hear _anything_ when they were making out? Amazing. (It's also really reassuring to know that he missed it as well.)

"Why do we have to rewind to watch that bit?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Because it's a great scene. Now shush," he retorts, bringing a finger to his lips, his eyes sparking with amusement.

She scoffs and tries to hide her smile as she rests her head on his shoulder, feeling a lot more at ease now.

And twenty minute later when Jess starts kissing her neck again, they stop talking for a while.

* * *

A/N: Please review!

MissGoalie


	115. Being Alone's the Only Way to Be

A/N: There's actually a reason why there was a long break between the previous drabble and this. It's coming sometime this week.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_I'm trying to find my peace,_

_I was made to believe there's something wrong with me_

_And it hurts my heart,_

_Lord have mercy, ain't it plain to see?_

_That this is a cold war,_

_Do you know what you're fighting for?_

_- Janelle Monáe_

Being Alone's the Only Way to Be

Jess is pretty sure it's a lot colder for him than it is for everyone else right now. People in Stars Hollow have warm, tailored jackets, small town camaraderie and traditions while Jess has a used leather jacket and keeps his head down, walking the streets in fear of sight of a pair of eyes that haunts everything.

He trembles alone, but forces his body to be still when he's standing in front of Luke and Lorelai for various reasons, only one in common (rage).

But he can't control anything when he sees Rory – his mind short-circuits, his heart stops and his fingers shake like he's smoked too many cigarettes.

He's restless to the nth degree and when the _fuck_ is his car going to be done? How can people _stand_ being here? How can _Rory_ stand it, now that she's living at Yale, experiencing independence and learning how far the world spreads? She's visiting home during a weekend for a dumb Stars Hollow tradition and he hopes she grows out of it – there are so many better places than this borderline-xenophobic town.

(He tries not to let bitter jealousy choke him into a blackout when he catches people glaring at him or hearing whispers behind his back, knowing that they all represent Rory in one way or another.)

He's lost in enemy territory, like always, but his two allies defected and he's screwed from the moment he's dragged back to this town until he pays Gypsy everything he has.

But then he finds cash that Luke must've left and all he can think is _maybe_ –

(– Should've known better.)

* * *

A/N: Please review!

MissGoalie


	116. And You, My Love, Are Gone

A/N: Song is "The Chain" by Ingrid Michaelson.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

And You, My Love, Are Gone

**my bones are shifting in my skin,**

**and you, my love, are gone.**

Traveling is hard on his everything, but it's better to focus on the physical aches and pains than –

His stomach churns on long bus rides and he's in a constant state of car sickness, just on the verge of vomiting, but his body not allowing him to (why should he deserve release and comfort?). It doesn't go away, even a few days later as he's sleeping on a spare mattress in his father's house.

But eventually it all catches up to him on the road and he can't sleep. Mind, body, heart, soul rip him to shreds in millions of different ways and he wonders if he's rearranging, turning into something inhuman. Maybe that's for the best because whatever this is fucking _sucks._

That's not even enough to describe it and he hates these limitations driving him mad.

**i cannot seem to operate,**

**and you, my love, are gone.**

She was definitely more indisposed when Dean broke up with her the first time, hugging a tub of ice cream as she wallows and cries on the couch, her mom a constant and loving presence.

It's different with Jess.

There's no crying on the couch, no binging on ice cream, and no one whispering that everything is going to be okay. Instead it's going through the motions and smiling brightly in spite of the crippling pain in her chest. It's designating Jess with a shoebox, putting away just one book and turning the others in the bookshelf so she can't read the titles. It's not listening to certain artists anymore and immediately changing the radio station when a song sneaks up on her. It's smothering her face with a pillow at night as she screams into it because she refuses to acknowledge the damage of it all.

She feels like her emotions are a tangled mess and her coping mechanisms are fried and she wants to reboot her systems. Reset. Start over.

She's nothing if not determined – mind over matter and heart, which should be easy to accomplish at Yale.

(It isn't.)

**i'll never say that i'll never love,**

**oh, but i don't say a lot of things,**

**and you, my love are gone.**

He _misses_ her – it's so hard to put all these things into words because it's not that simple. Words paint pictures and sometimes, despite the vastness and wonder of the English language, it's not enough. Touch and looks have their own languages, the complexity in simple gestures are so much more than three little words; he's more fluent in them than anything else.

She isn't, which is to be expected since she and her mother live on the power of the spoken word.

That's the tragedy of it all – she's resolute and stubborn in absolute order and he's resolute and stubborn in the abstract, hating the concept of constructs.

But whenever he tries to say something, he wants it to be important, to hold meaning because so many people babble and never fucking say anything.

_I love you_ is a phrase that he didn't think he'd ever say again, but he does it for her because it's in her language, something she'll understand, and he does it for himself because the words were burning through his veins, choking him in his sleep.

(She doesn't understand, what a surprise, and he's left with a desire to never say anything that means a damn thing again.)

**_and if you come around again_**

**_then i will take the chain from off the door._**

For so, so long she imagines, dreams of his coming back, and even though she yells at him for doing what he did, at the end, always, she pulls him in for a hug and never lets him go.

But she has nightmares too. She'll wake up with tears on her face and her heart pounding in her chest, dark dreams fading away from her memories, but lingering and hiding in the corner of her eye.

She worries about him too often and not enough. Some days she won't think of him and they're victories, results of her moving on. And then there are days when she chokes on repressed bitterness and sadness because a character in a book says something so _Jess,_ or a singer croons a lyric that he would scoff at.

She's becoming like him: more guarded and incapable of expression when it truly matters. And the sad thing is, what makes her so angry at and upset with herself, is that if he were to face her, if she could see the way the green in his eyes flash in the setting sun and feel his presence that always seems to sooth hers, then it would all right itself again.

(Her heart, his heart, the universe they've created in their quiet and private interactions that only works when they're okay; it's such a mess now, but before, for a really too-short period of time, it was glorious and bright like the perfect harmony to a melody, a meaningful line in a book, a beautiful smile on a sad boy's face.)

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for all your kind reviews - I appreciate them all!

MissGoalie


	117. It's So Hard to Get Old Without a Cause

A/N: One of the few songs in which the covers are almost always better than the original.

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

_Hoping for the best but expecting the worst,_

_Are you going to drop the bomb or not?_

_- Alphaville_

It's So Hard to Get Old Without a Cause

Jess has gone through life waiting for the other shoe to drop, living on food from street venders for weeks at a time, tuning out teachers when they tell him he's going to be another bum on the street if he miraculously manages to graduate; it's not like he could afford to be an optimist when he and his mom couldn't even manage rent.

So it's not like he's used to having nice things, at least for a long period – Rory is kind of like the beginning part of his dreams that eventually all turns to nothing and he wakes up in the middle of a nightmare he can't remember.

Winter turns into spring and when they're walking around Hartford, her eyes lingering on storefronts that showcase long dresses and he immediately starts coming up with excuses: he can't dance, doesn't own a single piece of nice clothing, work commitments –

(He may well fuck up before then and there's no use in trying to plan too far in advance.)

They're in his car and Alphaville comes on the radio in all its cheesy glory. He hates this song.

"How can you hate this song?"

He looks over at her, blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"It's just stupid. And overplayed."

"Don't like the idea of being forever underage?" she teases.

He stares ahead, the highway lit orange and littered with red backlights. Underage means being under the control of adults who don't know any better than kids; underage means keeping your mouth shut so social workers won't take you away; underage means limitations and rules and experiences that ruin everything.

"I'd rather grow up," he admits before he really realizes how that can be construed.

"Well I suppose it's a relief that my boyfriend won't be mimicking the likes of Jim Morrison."

"He wasn't underage when he kicked it though," he points out.

"True."

"And at least those in the Forever 27 Club did something worthwhile. They earned to be 'forever young,' if you want think about it that way."

He can feel Rory's eyes on him and he refuses to make eye contact.

"You don't think those deaths were a waste?" she inquires.

"Of course they were – they were selfish and a lot of them could've been prevented with rehab, therapy, whatever. They could've continued making great music for another decade or two. We could've gotten the most powerful song or album of all time – that was their potential – and we were cheated out of it because they just _had_ to have another drink or snort another line. But at least they could claim that _did_ something with their lives."

She shrugs. "But all that potential was gone in an instant; that's the tragedy. The cautionary tale. "

He clenches his jaw. His throat is sore from talking (admitting) that much at once and he hates that classic rock stations don't cut songs longer than three minutes.

"I'd rather grow up too," she adds after a few tense seconds. She changes the station and says, "There's a lot more to look forward to after high school and after college."

He hums in agreement. It's true – her future is bright with possibilities. Even if she decides being an overseas correspondent isn't her dream after all, there are so many other paths and directions for her to go in.

He reaches over to take one of her hands and lace their fingers together. With her free hand she covers his, her hold almost too tight and desperate.

(There's no point in talking about himself when he still can't fathom the concept of waking up above the diner next week and being able to kiss Rory on the same day; his future is like the long pause at the end of one song track that spills onto the beginning of another, one that he doesn't know what could be.)

* * *

A/N: Please review!

MissGoalie


End file.
